They call it love—
the way they chain hearts to wrists,
call jealousy devotion
and silence, security.
But I have watched the sky,
how birds fall in love mid-flight,
and never once ask each other
to clip their wings.
To love you
is not to own your laughter,
not to mark your time
with my name.
It is to build you a world
where your fire
doesn’t need to shrink
to warm me.
I will not ask you
to shrink your voice
so mine can echo louder.
I will not hold your hand
to keep you from reaching.
I will hold it
because you chose to stay.
And yes—
I will feel the sting
when you look somewhere else,
the ache of wanting to be your every thought.
But I will never mistake
my ache for your responsibility.
Love, to me,
isn’t possession.
It’s protection.
It’s standing beside you,
not in front of your path.
It’s lifting the weight from your back,
not building a cage with it.
So fly.
Dream too loudly.
Grow too wild.
Be too much.
And if one day,
you look down and still find me here,
you’ll know:
I was never holding you back.
Only holding space
for you to come home
free.
# Mr PM and Mrs CEO.
Go and read this chat story.💓💗
