Moonlight
Gentle glow echo the way you move through winter, choosing vibrance when the world turns dark.
Note
When my mind slips into its tight little loops, you do not rush to fix me. You stay close in the way that calms, offering presence, not pressure. Your care makes room for me to breathe, and in that room I feel safe enough to tell the truth.
You notice the parts of me that are trying to grow, and you name them gently. Then you check on me, simple and sincere, as if love is not a performance but a steady hand on the shoulder. Your tenderness lands and remains.
And when you speak of belonging, I understand you as someone made for true home, for the right soil, for being held without being owned. That is how I want to love you: not as a claim, but as a shelter. Not to keep you, only to meet you, again and again, where you can be fully yourself.
Stardust
Layered glass and quiet depth mirror your kind of wonder, the same curiosity that leads you into rooms made of light.