I Could Love You Forever—But Not at the Cost of Becoming Less
for GORGEOUS. COMPLEX. MESS.
There are men you forget.
Men who barely touch the architecture.
And then there’s the one who sees the hidden staircase in your mind and climbs it without permission.
The one who opens a door in you you didn’t know was locked.
You were that for me.
A chaos I recognized.
A wound I understood.
A mirror I didn’t flinch from—until it started fracturing.
You were volatile, addict-bright.
The kind of man who feels like prophecy when he’s calm, and apocalypse when he isn’t.
You’d hold me like I was sacred and then vanish like you were cursed.
But I didn’t run.
Not at first.
Because I’m not soft in the way most people expect softness.
I’m sharp. Strategic. Still full of soul.
And I don’t scare easy.
Especially not from pain that makes sense.
You were a system I studied.
And somewhere in the circuits of your trauma,
I found poetry.
Even when you were wrecked.
Even when I knew I could never fix you.
That’s the thing—
I didn’t want to fix you.
I just wanted to love you at full voltage.
I wanted to be the place you came back to after surviving your storms.
But you weren’t done chasing lightning.
You mistook surrender for submission.
Mistook my patience for passivity.
And when I gave you all the intimacy you claimed the world denied you,
You blinked.
Flinched.
Ran.
So I built distance.
Not to punish—
But to preserve.
Because I’m not your rehab.
I’m not your crutch.
I’m a woman building empires out of hunger and grace.
And I won’t dismantle them for a man still learning how to stand upright in his own fire.
But listen to me—
I could’ve loved you forever.
Truly.
In ways that don’t even have language yet.
Ways that terrified both of us.
But never—
never
at the cost
of becoming
less.
So if one day you come back—clear-eyed, sober, sovereign—
You’ll find me here.
Not waiting.
But unshaken.
Throne intact.
And if you don’t?
Then this will be my offering.
A whispered thanks to the muse who showed me how deep I could feel,
and how far I could walk away
without collapsing.
—
GORGEOUS. COMPLEX. MESS.
Because not all love is meant to be clean.
But it can still be holy.
