A love so quiet, so familiar, that it lingers, like a melody carried from one moment to the next, woven into the fabric of our days. The kind of love that sneaks up on you in the smallest moments: when I catch myself humming the tune, of the song you were absentmindedly singing last night while doing the dishes.
It's Saturady and the world hums with restless energy: neon lights flickering, air heavy with static, laughter spilling onto sidewalks, car horns and conversations blending into the night. But we are here, together. Home. I step into the lounge and find you crouched beside the CD box, brows furrowed in concentration as you search for something. Then, triumph—your fingers close around a familiar case, and you hold it up like a victory— my favourite movie. You remembered. Last week, we watched yours. Just like that, a smile tugs at my lips, warmth blooming in my chest. And before my heart can soar any further, the doorbell rings—our takeout, right on cue!
By the fireplace, we sit, different books in hand, the only sounds between us the gentle crackle of burning wood and the soft rustle of turning pages. Peace and quiet. From time to time, I steal a glance at you— only to look away quickly, afraid of being caught. Unaware of the fact that you are doing the same thing.
When you know they're home, by the familiar click of the lock, by the quiet rhythm of their footsteps. So you go to check, and get greeted by their smiling figure— a real, warm, eyes-lit-up kind of smile. So you smile too.
And on the nights when they don't find you waiting, they look for you. From room to room, until they find you crumpled up inside one's floor, “There you are,” they think instead of recoiling from the sight. They don’t rush you, don’t demand explanations. They just come close, wrap you in their warmth, and you ease. No words, just presence. Just little particles of love floating in the air.
I just want a quiet love, with no grand gestures or elaborate promises. People will do the talking no matter what, so why can't we just be? Be in love.
So that when the time comes for one of you to leave this world, you do it just as softly, just a click of the lock, the familiar absence of footsteps and you'll know. And after that, the moments of silence that follow they bring along their presence like a warm breeze. You don’t even realize they’re gone until you look up from your book and see the empty space where they once sat.
I just want a love that does not wound in silence. A love that does not haunt me with the absence of words.
A love like— we once had something beautiful and now that one of us is gone, I still find you in the moments of silence. Once alive, now an unburied memory.
Because words never die, but they make you do.
They're spoken once, but can be heard forever.
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
gracieabrams
