This is a journey through words.
Words that, to me, are the only way to describe you.
scroll slowly
Act I
/ɪˈθɪəriəl/
adjective, extremely delicate and light, in a way that seems too perfect for this world.
There is a kind of beauty
that doesn't demand to be seen.
It doesn't shout. It doesn't compete. It simply exists, and somehow, that's enough to re-arrange every room it enters.
She moves through the world
like light moves through water.
Softly. Without force. Bending everything around her effortlessly, and making the ordinary feel impossibly beautiful.
Some people remind you
that gentleness is not weakness.
That the softest voice in the room can carry the most weight. That kindness, in a world this loud, is an act of quiet rebellion.
You are that person.
Every smile, every glance, every unspoken understanding. It all feels like it was lifted from somewhere beyond here. Somewhere softer. Somewhere ethereal.
Act II
/ɪnˈɛfəb(ə)l/, too great or extreme to be expressed in words.
How do you describe something
that refuses to fit inside language?
I've tried. I've searched for the right word. The exact combination of letters that captures what it feels like to be near you. But every word I find feels too small. Too flat. Too human.
It's the feeling
between the last note
and the silence after.
That pause where your chest tightens and the world holds its breath. That's the closest I can get. That tiny, infinite moment. That's what you feel like.
You are the word
I keep trying to invent.
A word that means "safe" and "thrilling" at the same time. That means "home" even when we're nowhere near one. That means "everything I didn't know I was looking for."
Some things are too real for words.
So I won't try to contain this in a sentence.
I'll just let you feel it, the way I do.
Act III
/ˌsɛr.ənˈdɪp.ɪ.ti/. The occurrence of events by chance in a happy way.
Of all the lives being lived right now,
in all the cities, on all the streets, in all the rooms where someone is staring at the ceiling wondering if the universe ever gets these things right, somehow, inexplicably, our timelines intersected.
There wasn't supposed to be a moment.
Not a grand entrance, not a movie scene. Just ordinary circumstance doing extraordinary things. A conversation that lasted too long, a laugh that rang too clear, a silence that felt too comfortable for two people who barely knew each other.
And then something clicked.
Not like a switch. More like a sunrise. Gradual, undeniable, and impossible to look away from once you noticed it was happening. The recognition that this wasn't chance anymore. This was something.
I don't believe in coincidences
that feel this deliberate.
The universe isn't that random. Not when every "accident" keeps leading back to the same person. Not when every road I wasn't supposed to take led me closer to you.
This wasn't planned.
But it was right.
Act IV
/ˈreɪ.di.əns/. Light or heat as emitted or reflected; warm joy.
Before you,
I didn't know light could be warm.
I saw the world in clear, cold detail. Everything was visible but nothing glowed. Nothing pulsed. Nothing made the ordinary feel like it belonged in a memory worth keeping.
You changed the temperature
of everything.
Mornings feel different. Sounds land softer. Even the air tastes different when I know I'm going to hear your voice. You didn't just brighten my world. You warmed it.
You don't shine
to be seen.
You shine because you can't help it. It comes from somewhere deep. A steadiness, a kindness, a radiance that isn't performed but lived. And I watch it light up every room, every conversation, every silence we share.
I want to spend my life
in that glow.
Not standing in the spotlight. Standing beside you. In the quiet warmth. In the golden edge of your radiance.
Act V
This is the final made up word that I would describe you with.
sheisjustlikeatimemachinetomeeverytimeiamwithheritravelbacktomychildhoodherarmsaresocomfortableitfeelslikesleepingismuchharderhersmileisbrighterthanthesunthatilluminatesmydarklifewithherverythingiseasewithoutherevenbreathingishardersheismoreprecioustomethananyothervaluablesherlaughholdsasmoothsoothingsensewhichcalmsmymindandmakesmeglanceatherbecausehowcuteandprettyshelookwhilelaughinghereyesarelikeablackdarknightthatsucksupallmypainandsufferingandgivealookthatissosoftthatissohypnotisinghersenseofhumourisunmatchablesheknowswhenandwheretospeakandabouthowtomakeupsomeonesadshelendseartomesheismyaudiencesheismybiggestsupportersheismyjudgesheismyautocorrectorwhocorrectsmeeverytimshemightbemyalltimebestfriendsheismyoneandonleonewhounderstandsmethemosttheonewhoknowhowtoturnthatpainintolaughterherbeautyisnotanearthlythingbutsheherselfisaheavenlybeingwithherheavenlybeautysheissocaptivatingnonecantakeeyesoffhersheismycomfortsheislove
read slowly, this is not a paragraph, it's a promise
Take a breath.
What comes next is everything.
ACT VI — LOVE
I don't believe much in labels. Not because they don't matter, but because they're too small for what I feel.
Words like boyfriend and girlfriend try to simplify something that, to me, is anything but simple.
What I believe in is choosing someone.
Showing up.
Listening.
Caring, even when it's inconvenient.
Staying, even when it's hard.
I believe in love that feels safe. Love that feels honest. Love that doesn't need a name to be real, but chooses one anyway, because it wants to mean something.
I've poured everything I feel into this. Every word, every breath, every quiet thought I never knew how to say out loud.
And after all of it, there's one thing I know with certainty.