I built a home
with open windows
and a door that never locked.
I made space for you
in ways
you never asked for.
You came and went
like it was yours—
like I would always be there
waiting.
I learned your footsteps
your silence
the way you stayed
just long enough
to leave again.
And I called it love.
But love doesn’t visit.
Love stays.
So I closed the door.
And for the first time—
it felt like mine.
Jacque
Leave a comment