I am open to love again

Yes, I want the kind of night that spills into being on a call with you till 4 a.m.

That feels like a secret we’re both keeping and both confessing.

Yes, I want you to pull me close, to hold me like you mean it,

like there is something here worth protecting.

And yes… I like it when you soften.

When you peel yourself open and call it “getting naked,”

not in body, but in truth.

Tell me what lives beneath your silence.

Tell me that this, whatever this is, unsettles you too.

That it lingers in your mind the way it lingers in mine.

That you are careful because you feel it,

not because you don’t.

Sit with me.

Let’s wander from us into the world

pick apart the machinery of capitalism,

question the systems that shape us,

and then return, somehow, to something softer…

like the way your voice shifts when you call me beautiful.

You don’t understand

it’s not the word.

It’s the way it lands when it comes from you.

How my smile betrays me,

how my heart stumbles just a little,

as if it recognised something before I do.

Tell me you think of me

in those quiet, in-between moments

the same way I think of you.

Tell me you miss me,

so my longing has somewhere to rest.

Because I believe in love

not the fragile kind we tiptoe around,

but the kind that spills over.

That moves beyond romance

into friendships, into purpose, into the rhythm of daily life.

The kind that reminds you:

you are already whole, already worthy, already held.

Let it touch everything

your work, your passions, your laughter.

Choose what feeds your spirit, not just your survival.

Because real wealth…

it hums quietly in meaningful things.

And please

dance, even if you don’t know how.

Laugh, even when it feels unnecessary.

Let love find you in ordinary moments

and make them glow.

As for me

I am choosing love.

Softly. Intentionally. Again. Again.