LUCKYCHIN
I carry words like unopened letters soft, heavy, and too fragile to speak aloud. When we talk, my throat fills with stardust and silence all the "I love you" in my mind get caught between my breath and my tongue, too timid to break free.
So I write them down.
Each line is a quiet messenger, carrying the warmth I can't place in your hand, the longing I can't wrap in a hug, the way your presence makes even the quietest moments feel like a song.
Loving you has always been a quiet kind of miracle the kind that doesn't shout, but glows.
The kind that lives in pauses, in shared glances, in the way your name feels like a secret the universe trusted me with.
Maybe one day the words will be brave enough.
Maybe one day they'll rise past the stardust and find their way into the open air between us.
Until then, I will keep writing folding my heart into sentences, sealing it with hope, and sending it to you in the only way I know how.