I love her —
not in the loud, movie-scene kind of way,
but in the way I notice when she’s tired,
when she fake-smiles,
when she pulls her sleeves over her hands like she’s hiding from the world.
I love her in the details —
how she hums when she’s thinking,
how she talks like she’s okay when she’s clearly not.
it’s not perfect, it’s not easy —
but it’s real.
like choosing her even when she’s distant,
like showing up even when she pushes away.
I love her —
in quiet ways she might never fully see,
but I do.
God, I really do.