Soft in Love

I want to be soft in love. I want to wake up every morning with a sense of safety so secure and sure. I want to wake up knowing that there is someone in this world who loves me deeply, who is certain of me, who cares for me, wants the best for me and wants to protect me from the woes of the world, from a broken heart and sore eyes.

I want to be so soft in love. I want to go to concerts with my favorite person, hand-in-hand, smiling and chuckling at each other like kids—kids in love, kids in awe of each other, of the world only us share, of the love only us understand.
I want to sing along with him to our favorite songs. I want to be taken to a precious place only us occupy, even in the midst of people, in a multitude filled with people who are non-existent in our world — a blur.

I want to be soft in love. I want every touch to feel like butter; my heart melting every time he says my name, my heart skipping a beat when he touches me, my heart racing when he looks into my eyes. My heart doing happy palpitations every time he is near; every time — in days, months, years and decades to come. I want every touch to feel brand new, to feel special. I want to know every time, that what we have is precious, electrifying even.

I want to be so soft in love. I want others to see that I am soft in love. I want it to be evident in my facial expressions, in my words, in my mannerisms. I want them to see that I carry a love so pure that transcends to worlds even I don’t know about. I want people to be witnesses to my ease and be touched by it too. I want, with every smile, show them that a love as pure as mine is possible.

I want to be soft in love. On my tedious days, I want to feel better knowing that someone who loves me is waiting at home, for me; waiting for me to be back in his arms. I want to get tipsy when I’m with my girls knowing that I would not be sleeping alone at night. I want to feel alive at places knowing that it would not be long until I’m back with him. Every second that passes is an assurance that it would not be so long until I watch him beam at me as I walk in.

I want to be so soft in love. So soft that I feel found, that I feel like I belong somewhere in the world, that I belong in a safe space, that the world is not some volatile space anymore. I want to wake up and not feel like I’m floating, like I’m living in a simulation or having an out-of-body experience. I want to belong somewhere, I want to belong to someone, I want to feel found.

I want to be so soft in love that it reminds me of nothing I’ve experienced before. I want it to be so fresh, so innocent, so complete. I want it to make me wonder where it has been all my life, but also be extremely grateful it came when it did; because if it didn’t, I wouldn’t know how sweet love could get, how easy it could be, how refreshing it could make me feel. I wouldn’t know love is meant to be so soft.