When Love Learns to Stay

There are days

love does not sing.

It sits quietly between us,

unadorned,

bare of butterflies and fireworks,

asking only one question:

Will you still choose me?

When seasons change,

and the warmth we once borrowed from each other

is replaced by colder truths,

commitment is not the absence of doubt —

it is the courage to remain

while doubt knocks.

It is holding hands

not because they are warm,

but because letting go would be easier,

and love has decided

to practice strength instead of escape.

Commitment is waking up

and choosing the same soul

with tired eyes and an open heart,

saying,

"I don't feel everything today,

but I will still show up."

It is patience when passion rests,

forgiveness when words bruise,

and faith when emotions fall silent.

Because love does not survive

on feeling alone.

It survives on choice —

quiet, daily, unwavering.

And in choosing each other

again and again,

love learns the most sacred thing of all:

how to stay.