Healing love

There is a strange kind of happiness that doesn’t erase the past. It simply becomes louder than it. The dates are still there. Burned into the calendar like scars into skin. I still know when they arrive. I still remember what they once took from me. But for the first time in years the month no longer belongs to them. It belongs to us. I used to spend entire weeks surviving anniversaries. Counting down to days I dreaded reliving moments I never asked to remember. Grief had a way of stealing whole months from my life. Then you happened. Now the dates pass quietly. Not because I’ve forgotten but because your laugh is louder than the echoes. Your touch is warmer than old ghosts. Your love has become so constant that my mind has finally stopped living in yesterday. I never thought happiness could be this powerful. Powerful enough to soften memories that once consumed me. Powerful enough to make me realise I went an entire month without drowning in it. Powerful enough that the worst chapters of my life have become footnotes instead of headlines. You didn’t make me forget. You gave me something worth remembering instead. To be this loved. To be this seen. To wake up every morning and know that somehow against every prediction my mind ever made I found the person who feels like home. Some people heal because time passes. I think I healed because you arrived.