When you came into my life, I was alone—
Not just in the quiet, but deep in my bones.
I had locked my heart behind silent doors,
tired of watching love walk in
only to walk out again, leaving wreckage.

I didn’t make it easy to get close.
I was all sharp edges, quiet withdrawal,
a soul hiding behind its own walls.
My heart had been broken too many times
to offer it freely again.

But you—
you never asked me to be perfect.
You just stayed.
You came in gently,
like love wasn’t something to win,
but something to hold carefully.

You saw the mess in me,
and didn’t flinch.
You traced every scar with kindness,
every silence with understanding.
You made space for my fear,
and answered it with patience.

You kissed the hurt without asking it to leave.
You loved me without rushing me to heal.
And somehow,
with every look, every touch,
you started to stitch something back together.

Now, piece by piece, I let you in.
And I don’t feel afraid anymore.
Because when you came into my life,
you didn’t just bring love—
you brought safety.
You brought peace.
You brought me back to myself.