Where the Ocean Kisses the Shore

We were never light.

Not in the way others are,
passing words back and forth like they don’t carry weight.

With you, everything lands.

There’s a warmth in it,
the way we meet,
the way something settles between us like it belongs there.

I feel you before you say anything at all.

And I love that.

I love the depth,
the ease of being known without explaining,
the quiet way we find each other again and again.

It’s real.

But there’s a place we reach
and don’t cross.

A soft hesitation,
almost imperceptible,
like breath held just a second too long.

You pause there.

And I… feel it.

I’ve tried to soften into that space,
to let it be enough,
to stay in the warmth of what is
without touching what isn’t.

My heart is very good at that.

It knows how to linger,
how to keep something beautiful exactly as it is.

But my soul…
my soul wants movement.

Not force.
Not urgency.

Just truth that continues,
that doesn’t stop right when it begins to matter most.

And I won’t push you.

I won’t reach into a place you haven’t opened.

There is too much care in me for that.

But I also won’t quiet myself to match the edge of where you stop.

So this is where I stand -

still here,
still open,
still feeling the warmth of you when you’re near,

but no longer shaping myself to fit inside the pause.

If it deepens,
I’ll meet you there.

You’ll find me fully -
unchanged,
unhidden.

And if it doesn’t…

then what we are
will have to become something else…

not smaller,
not diminished,

just honest enough to breathe.

Because what we have deserves that.

And so do I.