Maybe I was never meant to fall in love in the ordinary way. Not in the kind that people hold, or name, or keep.
Maybe I’m meant to fall in love in silence—with stories that linger in my chest, with poetry that understands me better than people do, with words that don’t touch my skin, but somehow still reach my soul.
Maybe I’m meant to fall in love with the feeling itself, with the quiet ache of something almost mine, with the kind of beauty that exists only for a moment… and then lives forever in memory.
And if that’s all I’m ever given—to feel deeply, even if only through fragments, through lines, through pages—then maybe…
maybe that’s not a lack of love at all.
Maybe that is love, in its purest, most untouchable form.
—borntobemestuff













