If love were water, then you would be the gentle stream flowing through my life—pure, soothing, and endlessly moving. You’re not loud like a crashing waterfall, nor fierce like ocean waves, but you seep into every corner of my soul with quiet tenderness and sincerity.
I was once a barren land, where emotions cracked and faded with time. I had grown used to loneliness, to long, empty days. But then you came—like a small stream winding through the cracks, nourishing my heart, reviving it, and helping it bloom again.
If love were water, then every glance you give would be a drop of morning dew resting on a leaf—clear and pristine. Every word you speak would be a cool current washing away pain and sorrow. And every embrace you offer would be a warm flow, making me want to melt into you, like water merging with water—no boundaries, no distance.
I don’t want to be the dam that holds back this stream. I want to be the riverbed, the place where you can flow freely and peacefully. Because I know, the love you give doesn’t need control or restraint—it only needs to be cherished and understood.
This world may hold countless bodies of water—from vast oceans to tiny brooks—but for me, just one stream named you is enough. Because you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known: a gentle, enduring flow that softens the dryness in my heart.
