I met you in the quiet between heartbeats,

where the world forgets its noise

and two souls remember how to listen.

You arrived not like thunder,

but like warmth finding cold hands—

sudden, necessary, undeniable.

Since then, ordinary things betray me.

Sunlight through curtains feels like your laughter.

Rain tapping glass sounds like your name.

Even silence carries the shape of you.

Loving you is not fireworks—

it is the steady flame

that refuses wind, distance, doubt.

It is the way home feels different

once someone waits inside it.

I love how your smile arrives unannounced,

how your thoughts wander into mine,

how your presence turns simple moments

into memories before they even end.

If time were to loosen its grip tomorrow,

if every clock forgot its purpose,

I would still measure existence

by the way your hand fits in mine—

proof that some things are designed

not by chance,

but by longing finally answered.

So stay—

not as a promise,

not as a forever spoken aloud,

but as the quiet certainty

that wherever life scatters us,

some part of me will always walk

in step with you.

And if love leaves any mark behind,

let ours be this:

two hearts meeting,

recognizing themselves,

and choosing, again and again,

to remain.