A Soft Place to Land

Sometimes, life gets loud. The kind of loud that presses on your chest, makes your head spin, and leaves you needing a breath you can’t quite catch.

And then, there are people who arrive quietly. Not to fix things. Not to stay forever. Just to sit beside you in the noise. Like a song that doesn’t demand to be heard but fills the space in just the right way.

Our story isn’t one for labels or headlines. It lives in the quiet corners. The unspoken ease. The knowing glances. It’s like finding shade on a hot day. You don’t need to ask for it, but you’re grateful it’s there.

He showed up after a long Monday. I was unraveling at the seams, and I told him I was. He came, not to solve anything, but just to be near. I didn’t realize how much I needed the comfort of a simple presence. We talked, shared quiet laughs, and let the closeness fill the space.

This connection isn’t built on promises or plans. It’s present. Honest. It breathes without asking for more. There’s something healing about that. About being with someone who doesn’t try to possess your time or your heart, but still holds space for you when you need it most.

I don’t know what chapter this is. Maybe it’s a poem tucked in between two big plot points. Maybe it’s a pause. Maybe it’s just what it is. Soft, fleeting, and real.

But for now, I’m thankful for a place to rest my heart. Even if just for a while.