sometimes love is cruel like that— quiet at first, then suddenly everywhere. in the crumbs left on the counter, in your voice stuck looping in my head, in the way i remember every tiny thing you mention without even trying to. your favorite colour. your favorite song. the way you laugh when you're tired. the way you say my name. my name. my name. it’s awful. it’s wonderful. we make jokes about the future and i laugh too hard, too fast, because if i stop laughing i might start hoping. and hoping is dangerous. dangerous dangerous dangerous. playlists made "as a joke," sent at midnight, replayed until the words start sounding holy. clouds drifting slowly overhead while i keep finding reasons to stay. stay longer. longer. longer. the evenings soften around you. warm kitchens. sugar on fingertips. oversized sleeves brushing mine. something sweet in the oven, something sweeter growing between us— something i refuse to name because naming it makes it real. real real real. and even if you never love me the way i love you, i think i'll keep doing this anyway. i'll bake the cookies. i'll make the playlists. i'll collect every soft little moment like a bird building a nest that nobody asked for. because loving you feels ridiculous. it feels like smiling into my pillow. like rereading messages twenty times. like my heartbeat tripping over itself every time you look at me look at me look at me— like happiness stretched too tight until it almost starts to ache. maybe i'm doomed by it. maybe i'll keep wanting and wanting and wanting until my chest caves in with it. but still— if you asked, i'd stay. if you smiled, i'd stay longer. longer. longer.
