For Joel… who always leaves the light on for me
You didn’t meet the girl who still believed in forever.
You met the one who didn’t trust good things anymore.
By the time you came along,
I was scorched earth.
Burnt out.
Done.
Not in a dramatic, sobbing-on-the-floor kind of way—
in the quiet way.
The nothing sticks, nothing stays kind of way.
I didn’t want to be saved.
Didn’t want to be held like something delicate.
I wanted to be left the fuck alone
because love had cost me too much already.
But there you were.
Simple.
Solid.
No grand speeches. No fixing.
Just showing up—again and again—
until I realised you weren’t trying to win me.
You were just there.
And I hated that I wanted you.
Because wanting means risking.
Because part of me still thinks
anyone who sees the real me will run.
Or worse—stay just long enough to do damage.
And the truth is—
I’m not okay.
And I don’t know if I’ll ever be.
But you didn’t ask me to be.
You didn’t ask me to explain the scars.
You didn’t try to pretend I hadn’t been broken.
You just saw me.
Fucked-up, fragile, feral me.
And stayed.
You made space for Matilda
without trying to be something you’re not.
You let Billie climb across your life
like she owns the place—because she does.
And you never tried to soften the sharp edges in me.
You just respected them.
And that’s what did it.
Not the nice words.
Not the compliments.
Not the kisses.
It was the respect.
The quiet loyalty.
The fucking safety of it.
You’re not perfect. I’m not easy.
But this—us—is real.
Raw and bruised and still standing.
I don’t need a white horse.
I don’t need to be rescued.
I just needed someone who wouldn’t let go
when I pulled away.
After the fire,
there was you.
And somehow, I’m still here.
And this time,
I want to stay.