We've had our ups—
soft mornings and sharp edges,
learning each other like braille—
fingertips across old wounds,
heartbeats beneath hesitation.
But none of it
takes away the love.
If anything,
it's made it stronger—
stitched tighter through the breaking,
more sacred in the rebuilding.
Every day,
I love you more—
not because it's perfect,
but because it's us.
You, just sitting beside me,
are peace in the noise.
You feel like home.
I don't always have the words
for how much lives in me for you.
But it's there—
every hour,
every minute,
every second—
a quiet, constant rhythm
beating only your name.
I can't let you go.
Not when your smile
still lifts mine without trying.
Not when your chocolate eyes
pull me in like gravity—
familiar, endless, safe.
Not when your voice
feels like something holy,
like warmth I didn't know I was missing
until I had it.
When you say I love you,
it's not just sound—
it's electricity.
It's fireworks under skin.
It's every nerve catching fire
and choosing to stay lit.
Even when we argue,
even when distance makes it hard,
I still choose you.
Over and over.
Again and again.
Because after almost three years
of longing, hoping, waiting—
to finally be yours
feels like waking up
inside the dream I begged for.
So I hold you tight
like morning might steal you.
Sometimes I can't say
how deep this love runs,
so I pray.
For us.
For gentleness when we're tired.
For softness in the hard days.
For a love that stays kind,
even when we're not.
You are the end of my rainbow—
not a myth,
but the treasure I found
after every storm.
You are proof
that maybe all the breaking
was just leading me home.
And in your love,
I've started to find myself again—
the version of me that glows,
that dares to believe in joy,
that sees light even in shadows.
You lit a match in my dark
and never asked me
to put it out.
You're not just my boyfriend.
You're my best friend.
My safe place.
My calm.
My chaos.
My miracle.
And if we keep growing—
with patience,
with laughter,
with truth—
then maybe this dream
isn't a dream at all.
Maybe it's real.
Maybe it's forever.
Maybe you
are my home.