I’ve been trying to speak softly… but my heart keeps choosing the loudest language, the kind that shakes in the chest and spills out through trembling lips. Because how do you hide a feeling that keeps finding its way back no matter how many times you tell it to stop? See… some people fall in love and get loved back. Some fall in love and break. And some— some fall in love and keep choosing the same person even when they know the story might not choose them. I don’t know what kind of person that makes me. Brave? Stupid? Loyal? Or just someone who’s tired of running away from the one thing that felt real. All I know is this: I’ve loved in silence, carried feelings like secrets, pretended I was okay even when my voice wanted to crack open every time I said “I’m fine.” And maybe that’s the kind of love I give— quiet but heavy, soft but stubborn, fragile but willing to stand again no matter how many times it collapses. But this— this spoken poem isn’t a confession. It’s a promise to myself. A promise that even if the world asks me to let go, to forget, to move on, I’ll do it slowly, honestly— not by pretending nothing happened but by honoring everything that did. Because loving you taught me something: that the heart isn’t weak for holding on, and it isn’t cold for learning to let go. It’s human. I’m human. And maybe that’s enough.