Where My Love Learns to Breathe

There are people I hold too tightly,

not because my love is purer or strong,

but because I fear the quiet moment

when they might choose to move on.

It isn’t love alone that binds me-

it’s the ache of losing what I cherish most,

the fear that if they slip away,

their warmth will vanish like a ghost.

Even when others offer me deeper love,

I cling to the fragile thread they give,

as if my happiness depends entirely

on their choice to stay, or leave.

Crowds may gather around me,

yet loneliness still finds my core-

the absence of just one person

drowning out the presence of many more.

Their silence echoes louder

than the chatter that fills the room,

a single missing heartbeat

casting all my joy in gloom.

But in my longing, I often forget

the truth hiding behind my desire-

that my presence might weigh on them

like a quiet, growing fire.

While I feel breathless without them,

they breathe easier without me near;

my closeness may suffocate

even as I draw them dear.

Slowly, they settle into a life

where I have no rightful place,

finding comfort in my absence-

finding calm in emptied space.

Though my heart breaks in the silence,

their world continues untouched,

and perhaps, without my shadow,

their happiness matters much.

That is where I see my flaw-

the fierce grip of desperate love;

the tighter I hold their fading light,

the quicker they rise above.

Love becomes a quiet chain

when wrapped too tightly around a soul,

and the heart that feels imprisoned

will always seek control.

So I learn to steady my own tides,

to hold myself before I hold another,

to let love breathe in open air

instead of smothering its lover.

My love must move like water,

soft enough to flow, strong enough to stay,

not a flood that overwhelms,

but a river finding its way.

I must let my heart expand freely,

not shrink to fit another's shape;

love should never be a prison

from which someone longs to escape.

So may my love be a gentle offering,

not iron clasped around a wrist-

a sky where wings grow stronger,

not a cage wrapped in mist.

May the ones I love feel lighter

because I choose to let them be,

not bound by fear or longing,

but welcomed in their freedom’s sea.

If love is meant to stay with me,

it will stay without being told;

not because I grip it tightly,

but because it feels safe to hold.

And if it chooses to drift away,

I will not drown within the tide-

for love grows deepest, not in chains,

but in the courage to stand beside.