Maybe love is not lost— just l

Maybe it walks slowly through crowded cities, through wrong timings, through people who almost stayed. And maybe I am here, holding softness in my hands like a candle protecting its own flame, waiting for someone who will not ask me to burn alone. Sometimes I wonder if love can hear me from wherever it is. If it knows how carefully I save my affection, how I still look at sunsets as if they were promises, how I still believe despite all the silence. Love feels far tonight. Far like stars I can see but cannot touch. Far like a name destiny forgot to whisper to me. But still— I hope. I hope there is someone whose heart is searching too, someone who has also stared at an empty space beside them and imagined warmth. Someone who will choose me gently, not temporarily. Someone who will stay without making me beg for it. Until then, I will keep becoming the kind of person who can recognize love when it finally arrives. And when it does, I think it will feel less like fireworks and more like coming home after being cold for a very long time.