Love Found Me

I used to think how love could move mountains. How love could turn every impossible into possible, how love can make you write a thousand poems and songs. 

I wrote hundreds of poems about the idea of love that I have always wanted to have. All of the poems I had before were burned long ago in the backyard along with the feelings I expected to feel.

Only one piece has been left— written on a yellowish paper filled with tears and last strings of hope. Hoping that someday, it will find you. 

“I wish for love that is willing to dance with my storms in life and a love that is willing to sit with me in the corner when ungodly hours strike.”

A love that will make me feel warm when it’s cold and a love that will make my coffee taste better in the morning. A love that doesn’t move mountains, but will walk with you in every path on the way up.

A love that doesn’t make the impossible possible, but a love that will never lose hope in hopeless situations. A love that will make you cherish the poems under your bed like your favorite teddy bear when you were ten.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be pure.”

Now, the message in a bottle that I had written was lying beside me; as the sun kissed their skin good morning and as the birds chirped outside. 

The message in that bottle did not find you, it found me. 

Love found me—and it’s one of the most beautiful things to ever exist.