This Thing Called LOVE
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- Parts 28
Ongoing24m
Last published Thu, Jul 23, 2015
What sort of poet would I be if I didn't talk about love? It's customary, almost. Like a rite of passage. The experience of it certainly felt like that, like crossing some kind of threshold. Things will never be the same again. Of the poems that follow, you'll find that some are just scraps of verse; fragments just like the memories themselves. I hope you'll find something of yourselves somewhere in here. :)
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𝓒𝓱𝓻𝔂𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶𝓾𝓶 (𝚁𝟷𝟾 - 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢)
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"What does it mean to love someone who doesn't love you back? To wait, to hope, to wonder if love can change the way the stars align?" This is not just a story,it's a journey. A raw, intimate recollection of love that bloomed in silence, of moments that lingered too long in the spaces between friendship and something more. It's about patience, about the ache of wanting, and the quiet magic of the unexpected. But this isn't a tragedy. This is a love story. A story of persistence, of quiet longing turned into something real;of two souls finding their way to each other against all odds. Some love stories are loud, written in fireworks and grand gestures. This one was whispered..written in stolen glances, unsaid words, and the kind of love that waits. If you've ever loved, lost, or wondered what it means to hold on-this is for you.
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