Love: Brave enough to look beyond themselves.

I watched my favorite person love someone else—

and I did not shatter.

I bloomed.

Because love, at its brightest, is not possession,

but the courage to burn quietly

so another may stay warm.

First love is a strange beauty-

hurting more in memory than it ever did in life.

It ends, yes,

but it never truly leaves.

It settles into the soft cracks of the heart,

beautiful not for how it began,

but for how it refuses to fade- forever yours, forever gone.

You were beautiful in ways

even destiny couldn’t decipher,

like dawn loving the night

yet never meant to remain.

We were not written in the stars,

but for a moment your light convinced my world

the dark had forgotten me.

I linger now in quiet time,

where longing learns patience.

Your absence does not wound-

it aches gently,

a twilight warmth that stays.

True yearning does not knock at fate’s door;

it waits, rooted deep, unseen, unyielding.

Love is not perfection, but wild growth through thorned soil- forgiveness like rain, trust opening slowly.

To love is not blindness, but vision.

This morning asked only my attention, and in giving it

I found proof:

love does not rot when it breaks-

it sharpens the eye, until even grace is impossible to miss.

Real love arrives when pride loosens its grip

and two frightened hearts choose to look without flinching.

#LoveStoriesInVerse