Love like this doesn’t whisper. It crashes, it wrecks, it pulls me under, and I don’t want to come up for air. It’s not something I tiptoe around… it’s something I dive into headfirst, knowing it could break me, knowing I don’t care. Because he’s worth it. Because this is worth it.
He’s everywhere, in everything. In the glow of my screen, in the way our words spark and catch like fire. His voice is a melody I hum without meaning to, his words echo in my head long after our conversations end. It’s terrifying how much space he takes up, how he’s carved himself into my life like he was always meant to be there. And I let him. No, I want him there.
I used to believe love should be careful. That it should be safe. But he makes me reckless. He makes me want to give everything, every thought, every heartbeat, every piece of myself I swore I’d keep guarded. And maybe that should scare me, but it doesn’t. Not when it’s him.
Do I scare him? Does he realize how deep this goes? The way we are a hurricane, a wildfire, something too big to contain? How I would burn the whole world down just to keep him warm? I don’t say it, but I hope he knows. I hope he sees it in the way I linger when we say goodnight, in the way I hold onto every word he gives me like it’s something sacred.
Love like this isn’t just rare. It’s wildfire, unstoppable and consuming. And if I’m lucky, it never fades. But even if it does, I won’t regret a second of it. Because this? This is the kind of love people write about. And I am living it.
