"it settles" by limerenze
not in a way that unsettles you, just in the way it exists outside of anything you've ever known how to name.
it's the kind of thing you used to imagine finding. the kind you build quietly in your head, soft and golden and always just a little out of reach.
only to realize, now you're here. and it looks nothing like you thought about. it looks nothing like you wrote about.
you think it's strange. the way you feel about him.
not loud. not consuming. not the kind of love that demands to be felt all at once.
just, constant. like it's something that's been woven into you so carefully, you don't notice it until you try and pull away.
it's not something you have to search for.
you never have to question it. you don't have to hold too tightly to keep it from slipping.
because it doesn't waver.
it sits with you in the quiet, in the in-between moments, in the stillness that used to make you restless.
and it sits with you in the chaos too. when your thoughts turn sharp and everything inside you starts to spiral. when the storm clouds gather behind your eyes.
and maybe that's the undoing.
because you would've sworn you'd felt love before. you've called it love before.
you've stood in the heat of something you were certain burned just as bright as this does. something that took up space in a way that made it impossible to ignore.
but it never held. it never rooted itself into you the way this does.
and the difference is almost unbearable.
because you can't quite fathom that you ever believed anything but this was love.
the heat of the fool's gold you once mistook for love left blisters. blisters that healed to scars. and those scars that are now softened by something warmer.
because love isn't supposed to burn. it's not something to be afraid to get close to.
the difference is in the way you soften in his presence.
the way the walls you built without realizing begin to give. not all at once, but slowly.
like something that's being taken apart with care instead of with force.
he stays to gather the pieces, placing them gently at your feet, ready for if you ever decide to need them again.
just enough to loosen the grip on everything you've been holding too tightly.
because with him, you're not waiting.
you're not bracing for the shift. for the moment that something good turns into something you have to grieve.
you can just exist beside him. and somehow, that is enough.
you aren't choosing him in a way that feels urgent or all-consuming.
you choose him quietly. in the way you remain. in the way your thoughts return to him without effort. in the way the storms behind your eyes begin to clear without a fight.
it's strange, how something so gentle can feel so certain.
