“To the Love I Still Believe In”
There are days when I tell myself I’ve made peace with it —
that maybe love like the ones I read in stories
is not meant to find me in this lifetime.
And yet, some quiet part of me still hopes.
I’ve seen how love can heal,
how it can teach you to breathe again after breaking.
But I’ve also seen how it can leave you hollow,
how truth, when left unspoken, can pull two hearts apart.
Maybe that’s why I keep my truth close —
not because I don’t want to share it,
but because I’ve learned that the world
doesn’t always understand what it hasn’t learned to see.
Still, I long for that kind of love —
the kind that doesn’t flinch at honesty,
that stays even when the truth feels heavy.
The kind that doesn’t ask me to hide
just to be held.
Maybe it won’t come soon.
Maybe it won’t look like the stories I’ve read.
But I’ll keep believing that somewhere, somehow,
there’s a heart meant to understand mine —
not in spite of my truth,
but because of it.
Until then, I’ll keep choosing to love quietly,
to carry softness even in silence.
Because love, even when unseen,
still lives in me.
