the city looked softer at midnight. streetlights glowed gold against empty roads, and the world felt hushed in the way it only does when everyone else is asleep.
you live in my thoughts so gently that it almost frightens me. not loudly, not overwhelmingly — just constantly, like a quiet melody beneath everything else.
every love song is for you. even the ones that never mention your name, even the ones written long before i knew you existed. somehow, every lyric finds its way back to you in the end.
i hear you in soft melodies, in aching choruses, in the quiet pauses between verses where longing lingers the longest. the songs understand what i struggle to say out loud — that loving you has changed the way i listen to the world.
now, every love song feels less like music and more like memory. like all the feelings i’ve hidden carefully inside myself finally learning how to sing.