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I want a love that longs for me
as deeply as I ache for it.
A love that doesn’t hesitate,
doesn’t falter at the weight of my presence.
A love that welcomes me whole,
not carved into shapes to fit someone else’s mold.
I want a love where I’m not
a question waiting to be answered,
a burden waiting to be set down.
Where my being is not a puzzle
to solve or endure,
but a home where someone chooses to stay.
I want a love that doesn’t require me
to beg to be seen,
to plead for soft hands or steady arms.
A love that doesn’t make me fear
its fading,
doesn’t ask me to silence my voice
or clip my wings just to stay.
I want a love that chooses me
not out of convenience,
not out of duty,
but out of desire that flows freely,
unbound, unshaken.
To be loved,
truly loved,
is to know I can stand as I am—
flawed, raw,
and still be the answer
someone has been searching for all along.
It’s not too much to ask,
to want a love that wants me back.
Not as an option.
Not as an afterthought.
But as something someone dared to dream of,
and when they found it in me,
knew they’d never let go.
Isn’t that what love should be?
To rest in it without fear,
to live in it without begging?
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