Poetically Wrecked

[poeticallywrecked]

💍The Doors Opened More💍

The soft click of the suite door echoed as I turned the handle, gently pushing it open. Warm air, scented with sea salt and tropical blossoms, greeted me like a quiet kiss. For a moment, I just stood there. The view beyond the open doors was breathtaking. The golden light of the setting sun spilled through sheer curtains that swayed in the breeze, painting the room in hues of rose and amber. Just past the wide glass windows, the ocean stretched endlessly, soft waves rolling onto the shore as if humming a lullaby. It felt like a dream. Like the kind of place you only ever visit in your imagination. But I was here. We were here.

I stepped inside slowly, my eyes trailing over the delicate flower petals scattered on the bed, the champagne chilling by the window, and the two glasses set just close enough to suggest something awaited. Every detail whispered something tender. Something intentional. And then I saw him. Standing on the private deck, bathed in the glow of the fading sun, Legoshi turned to look at me with that same quiet expression that had once met me in a high school hallway. Except now, it held something deeper. Something certain.

He walked toward me without saying a word at first, only taking my hand in his, guiding me to the edge of the room where the ocean breeze touched our skin. There, laid out gently on the table between us, was a small velvet box. Open. Waiting. The ring inside shimmered like it knew exactly what it meant. My breath caught, not because I was surprised, but because my heart had never felt so full. This was not a moment designed to impress. It was a moment made to feel. To remember.

His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke. He said I had always been the one who saw him clearly. Who taught him how love could be tender and wild, soft and strong. He told me that this life, whatever it became, only made sense if I was standing beside him. That I had always been his calm in the storm. His home in a world that never stopped questioning what we were.

And standing there, toes grazing the edge of a forever we were just beginning to name, I felt the truth in every word. I did not need a ceremony or a crowd. The world could pause right here, and I would have everything I had ever wanted. Not because it was perfect, but because it was ours.

I said yes of course. Not just to the ring, not just to the moment, but to the life waiting quietly beyond the horizons. The life I did not know wanted with him and I wildly said yes to the endless possibilities. That moment in Bora Bora wrapped its arms around my entire body as I began dancing in the pages of bridal magazines in my head.

[poeticallywrecked]

☀️The Horizon☀️

That morning began with the sound of his voice, low and steady, coaxing me awake before the sun had even thought to rise. The world was still wrapped in shadow, the air tinged with the kind of quiet that feels like a secret. I remember blinking against the dim light, only to see him standing there with that half-smile, a plane ticket in his hand. There was no warning, no time to overthink, only the promise of an adventure sealed in his eyes.

He whisked me away before I could even finish my coffee, our laughter spilling into the cool dawn as if it could carry us all the way to the airport. The streets were still hushed, the air cool against my cheeks, and the faint scent of morning dew clung to everything. There was a magic in the way he moved that morning, purposeful yet soft, as though he had been holding on to this moment in his heart for longer than I could guess.

The first flight to Bora Bora felt like stepping into a dream. The hum of the engines blended with the gentle rustle of passengers settling in, and the faint scent of brewed coffee drifted from the galley. His hand found mine and never let go. I watched the light creep over the horizon through our window, painting the clouds in soft gold and rose, and in that glow I saw the quiet certainty of a love that had carried us through so many journeys before.

I thought of the countless times we had taken to the skies together, each flight carving its own memory into the fabric of our story. There had been midnight departures, sunlit landings, quiet layovers, and unexpected turns, each teaching us something about who we were together. Yet that morning felt different. It was not just another destination. It was the first flight that felt like a promise, one of freedom, of escape, and of holding on to each other above the clouds.

By the time the turquoise lagoons came into view, sunlight spilling over the rippling water, I knew this was more than a trip. It was another thread in the tapestry we had been weaving for years, a reminder that no matter where we touched down, my favorite part of every journey would always be him beside me.

[poeticallywrecked]

🍃How It All Began🍃

It’s a slow morning. The kind where the sunlight lingers a little longer on the windowsill, and everything feels suspended in time. I’m curled up with a cup of tea, the warmth settling into my hands, and my thoughts begin to drift, like they always do when the world feels quiet. I think about how it all began. Just a few soft hellos in the school hallway. That’s how he came into my life. the shape shifting wolf who stole my heart.

He wasn’t someone who filled a room with noise. He filled a room with a quiet presence. You had to pay attention to feel it. And feel his presence I did. I noticed him. The way he avoided eye contact but always watched with those gentle, uncertain eyes. How he moved with care, like the world was something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch. At the time, I thought nothing of it. Just another tall, quiet boy passing by. And I was just the small girl people whispered about, always hurrying between classes and club meetings. Our worlds weren’t supposed to touch. But they did.

The first real conversation we had was in the garden behind the school. The sun was low, turning everything gold, and I remember how he stood just a little too far from me, like he didn’t trust the space between us. He looked at me like I might break. And I wanted to show him I wouldn’t. What I didn’t expect was how safe I felt with him. How I could finally be soft without being mistaken for weak. With him, I didn’t need to explain myself or guard my edges. He listened in a way no one else ever had. He saw the parts of me I usually kept hidden and treated them like they mattered.

It didn’t happen all at once. We didn’t fall in love like a firework. It happened slowly, in pieces. A hundred small moments stitched us together — sharing tea, walking home from school, quiet pauses that said more than words ever could. People doubted us. They said it wouldn’t last. That a relationship like ours didn’t make sense. He was too big. I was too small. The world we came from didn’t make room for a story like ours. But we made space for it anyway. We kept showing up. Even when it was hard. Especially when it was hard.

Now it’s been fifteen years. Five years short of two decades. A life full of mornings like this one. Shared rituals, quiet laughter, sleepy confessions whispered into each other’s collarbones. He still looks at me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen. And I still tease him about his snoring and his terrible habit of overwatering the plants. Our love has changed shape. It has softened. It has deepened. It has become home.

If I could go back and tell my younger self something, I’d tell her to say hello sooner with a smoothie. I’d tell her that the shape shifting wolf with the quiet voice and trembling hands would become the center of her universe; don't be afraid. That what started as passing glances would grow into a love that is steady, gentle, and true. I would tell her that she is much stronger than she realizes. That love wouldn’t come with fanfare or dramatic declarations, but with quiet safety, quiet joy, quiet forever.