To Grown for Almost
I am not a home you can borrow,nor a promise spoken too soon.
I won’t ask you to build a future on feelings that haven’t learned to endure.
There was a timeI mistook intensity for love—when almost felt romantic,and leaving felt easierthan risking being known.
I’ve outgrown that.
If you’re looking for certainty,I cannot offer it before it’s earned.If you’re looking for forever,I won’t speak the worduntil my life can carry its weight.
But if you’re willingto let love grow slowly—through ordinary mornings,honest conversations,silence that doesn’t need filling,and grace on the dayswhen neither of us is easy to love—
Then stay.
Not because the fire never fades,but because we’ve learnedthat warmth is what remainsafter the flames have settled.
I no longer chase the thrillof almost.
I’d rather choosethe quiet courageof always trying again.