This Love Grew Up

Dear You,

You wouldn’t recognize the old version of me.

The one who panicked.
The one who held on too tight.

But I’ve grown up.

This love?
It breathes now.
It doesn’t beg.
It lets you go and still keeps a window open.

It says,
“Come back if you want. I’ll still be kind.”

And I will.

I promise you,
even in silence—

this love still remembers how to whisper your name gently.

—Castor