I crave safety the way some people chase thrill. I’m not looking to be swept off my feet. I’m looking for ground that won’t disappear beneath me. The kind of peace that doesn’t feel like a pause before the next fallout. A love that doesn’t ask me to quiet myself just to be kept.

I want slow mornings where nothing feels like a test. Conversations where I’m not decoding tone or walking away wondering what I did wrong. I want the softness that doesn’t punish me for needing rest. For needing reassurance. For needing time to come back to myself.

I’ve known the kind of love that burns too fast and names the ashes connection. I’ve carried the weight of someone’s silence and called it strength. But I’m done making homes in places that don’t feel safe to sleep.

Give me love that holds steady. That feels like exhale. That lets me be whole, even when I’m still healing.