I used to be afraid of love,
like someone afraid to touch a wound
that hasn’t healed.
There were days I believed
my heart could only stay closed
and protect itself.
But then one day,
someone came along —
quietly, without promises,
placing nothing more than a smile
at the doorstep of my heart.
It turns out the heart knows
how to find its rhythm again
when someone patient enough
is willing to listen.
It turns out happiness still waits somewhere,
hoping I’ll open the door
and invite it in.
To try loving again —
not because the past is forgotten,
but because I deserve
new days of peace.
I’m learning to be gentle with myself,
and believing that when love arrives
at the right moment,
it will no longer hurt.
