Beyond patterns: What a true connection is.

You know, people like to explain things. Break them down into logic—patterns, instincts, choices.

They say connection is just about timing, chemistry, or the right combination of traits. Like it’s a formula. Like it’s something you can just turn on or turn off.

But the truth is... real connection doesn’t work like that.

It’s not found in a checklist. It’s felt—in the quiet, in the way someone looks at you when you’re not speaking. In how they stay when things get hard. In how they see you, even when you’re not at your best.

You don’t switch that kind of bond on. You don’t switch it off.

It either lives in you… or it doesn’t.

Funny how those who can’t hold love always blame the design.

I don’t just love you……..

I love the way you speak,

the way you see the world,
your thoughts, your dreams, the little truths you don’t even realise you show.
your smile—
that little dimple slips on your face when you grin.

I love your walk,

your silliness,

your thoughts,

your awkwardness,

your stillness,

your anger,

your care,

your irritation.

I love the way you help others,
the way you notice things others don’t.

I don’t just love you.
I love everything you do—
the pieces you hide, the ones you give freely.

And I love the version of myself that see all of this,
that notices,
that feels deeply.

I see every detail,
and I love wanting more of it.

I don’t just love you.
I love all of you,
with all of me.

It Was Never About The Big Things....

You know sometimes..... shattered dreams aren't dramatic. They don't come crashing down with noise. They just.... quietly slip away.

One by one.

Like wanting to go for a ride when it's raining. Just to feel something. But you don't, because even that feels like too much.

Or trying to eat something you used to love---- and realizing it doesn't taste like anything anymore. Not because it changed. You did.

Not having someone to talk to.. not someone just to chat with, but someone you can actually speak your mind to. No filters, no fear of being misunderstood. Just.... open. Honest.

And the future? It's like this blurry thing you're supposed to think about. But how do you talk about tomorrow when you can barely survive about today?

You see things once you wanted----your dream car, a house, even a small vacation---and all of it feels out of reach. Not because you're lazy or ungrateful. But because you're alone.

There's no one beside you saying, "We'll figure it out."

The thought of building a family.....it's not a dream anymore. It's a fear. What kind of world would you bring kids into when your own feels so unstable?

You can't enjoy a quiet evening because the voices doesn't stop in your mind. It keeps asking questions you don't have answers to.

And the worst part? When someone asks "What's wrong?"---you can't explain. Not because you don't want to but because you know they won't get it. They'll try. But they won't at the same time.

And when you do try to speak? You end up crying. Even when you didn't mean to. Even when you were just trying to be normal. 

People talk about big dreams like they're the goal. But sometimes, a dream is as simple as chasing a bug in the backyard..... smiling, for no reason.... just being okay.

That's all. That's the dream.

All The Little Things You Do......

You water the plants when I forget,

Fix the lights - I fear the dark.

Order food when I skip a meal,

Buy me pads I missed to mark.

You pack a kit for every fall,

'Cause I'm clumsy, always bruised.

Bring me books to calm my soul,

When I'm bored and feeling used.

You plan the trip, the route, the stay,

So I can rest, breath and sway.

You listen to my endless thoughts

and be my best friend - your favorite "we".

You charge my phone at dawn,

'Cause I wake up late - or my mind is gone.

You eat my food without a fuss,

'Cause you know one bite is enough for us.

You let me try each crazy thing,

just to watch the joy it brings.

You make me smile in all I do-

And when I fall, I know you'll be there too.

In Your Room

 The first time in your room.

I saw this place through video calls---

you being you, just existing in it.

I remember the things we said we'd do

once I was finally here.

The plans, the dreams, the waiting.

I noticed when the books were rearranged.

When the wall changed.

When the sheets did.

I saw you clean it.

I saw you fall asleep in that bed.

And now, I'm here.

In your room.

And I remember everything.

This room is special.

Our love grew here - in conversations,

in pixels, in shared silences.

Now, your lover is here.

In your room.

In front of you.

With love in her eyes.