Mine

She thought she understood her heart
where it belonged, who it chose, and how certain it felt.
To her, some things were simple. Clear. Unquestionable.
And he...
he was never one of those complications.
He was familiar. Constant. Safe.
The one person who never demanded answers,
never crossed lines,
never made her question anything she believed in.
But what she saw as certainty,
he had learned to live as silence.
Because some feelings don't need to be spoken
to exist.
And some truths are easier carried quietly
than risked and broken.
She believed she knew her story.
He knew better
he just never said it.
Because not all stories begin with love.
Some begin with patience,
with distance,
with everything that goes unnoticed...
until it doesn't anymore.
And sometimes
what feels like the beginning
was never the start at all.