I wasn’t searching for love.
I was searching for peace.
I was searching for the quiet between the chaos, and for the man I had forgotten I was.
Before your presence in my life,
I walked through storms with my head bowed low, speaking to God in sighs instead of words.
But then, you appeared like sunrise after years of rain; not loud, not demanding;
just right, pure light.
You didn’t save me.
You reminded me that I was worth saving.
You didn’t fix me.
You loved me until I started fixing myself.
And for that, every poem I write now breathes your name in between the lines.
This book serves as our beginning to love, and the ending of our souls being restless.
You are the reason I found the desire to bring pen to paper, not to talk about love, but to talk about us and everything you mean to me.