The Love I Needed Right Then

You weren’t forever.

But God, you were right now.

You were the warm light in a cold year,

the laugh in my throat after months of silence.

You showed up unannounced,

like spring in a city that never expected to bloom again.

And I didn’t ask where you’d been.

I just opened the window and let you in.

We never talked about next month,

or next year.

Our calendar was made of moments—

Your hand on my thigh in the car.

My head on your shoulder,

pretending not to memorize the shape of you.

I didn’t love you in the way people write vows about.

But I loved how I felt with you—

seen, silly, alive.

And that kind of love deserves its own poem.

When you left,

there was no storm, no cruelty.

Just the quiet understanding

that some hearts are travelers.

And some homes are temporary.

You weren’t mine to keep.

But for a time,

you were mine to hold.

And that’s enough.