Detached attachment - The life i breathed into.

 Every time I see you, I can’t help but pull you into my arms, holding you as if you were a part of me that I could never afford to lose. And if someone else so much as touches you, even in kindness, a fire rises in me—a protectiveness so fierce, so wild, that I clutch you tighter, claiming you once more as mine.

I see the jealousy flicker in your eyes, and I adore it. That quiet, stubborn possessiveness, the way your little hands wrap around me like I am the only world you know. I watch in silent amusement as you pout, as you push others away, as you make it clear—my love is yours alone.

You never wondered if I am beautiful or unkempt, if I am perfect or flawed—because in those tiny arms, there is no room for such questions. I was kissed without reason, held without condition, drenched in an affection that asks for nothing in return. And I allowed it, basking in the innocence of love that knows no restraint.

Your little voice filled my world with secrets, with dreams, with the nonsensical, endless chatter only I could understand. And I listened—because every word that spilled from your lips was a gift meant just for me. Your laughter was my melody, your warmth, my comfort.

Even in sleep, you never let me go. Your tiny frame pressed into mine, your breath soft against my skin. And I? I stayed still. Even as my limbs ached, even as exhaustion weighed down on me, I did not dare move, for I feared waking you, feared breaking that perfect moment. Instead, I watched you, wide-eyed and silent, memorizing the way you breathed, the way you twitched in your dreams, the way you existed—because, my love, you were my entire existence.

And then, one day, you let go. The arms that once clung to me with such certainty loosened. The love that was once mine, and mine alone, drifted toward something else, someone else. I searched for your gaze, but your eyes no longer sought me first. I reached for your hand, but you had already let it slip away.

I waited for you to turn back, to reach for me like you always did. But you didn’t.

Once, I was your whole world. Once, I was the only home you knew. And now, I stand on the sidelines, watching you find new arms to hold you, new hearts to confide in, new roads to walk that no longer lead back to me.

But love does not ask questions. Love does not keep score. Love simply remains, waiting, hoping, aching, breathing.

For love, once given, never really leaves. 

Because love, my love, does not fade. It does not leave. 

Even when it is abandoned, even when it is forgotten, it remains—unchanged, unshaken, forever yours.