It has been a great week.
It has been steady, soft, and great. The kind of great that sneaks up on you when you realize you haven’t been thinking too much in days. When your chest doesn’t feel tight every morning. When sleep comes without effort.
For once, love didn’t feel like something I had to fight for or cling to. It didn’t feel sharp or consuming or desperate. Love had always felt like something I had to protect with my whole body. Like if I relaxed for even a second, it would slip through my fingers. But now, I didn’t feel like I was guarding anything. I felt like I was standing on steady ground.
We spent the week learning each other again, slowly. Not rehashing the past, not reopening wounds that were still tender, but building something new on top of the ruins. Something quiet.
