Spoken Word: How I Know I Am Loved

When I saw him, I knew he's different. 

He doesn't just look at me; he sees me. Really sees me. 

There's this intensity in his gaze that's almost intimidating but comforting at the same time. 

It's as if he's peeling back layers, sifting through the façade I’ve so carefully built over the years, and finding the person underneath. 

A person I didn't even know existed anymore. 

When I talk to him...  

His eyes don't glaze over. 

He's not waiting for his turn to speak, but listening—every word, every pause, every breath. 

He hears the things I don't say, the things I'm too afraid to voice. 

He senses the hesitations, the fears, the unspoken dreams that I've buried deep. 

And he reacts... 

He asks questions, not out of mere curiosity but from a desire to understand—to know me better. 

No one has ever made me feel this vulnerable, and yet so safe at the same time.

I can’t be a liar around him; he'd call me out in an instant. 

With him, I can't just float on the surface of this ocean called life. 

He pulls me deeper.  

And, for the first time, I don't want to resist the current. 

There's something liberating in this newfound depth that he's taking me to. 

I never knew how starved I was for genuine connection until he walked into my life. 

It’s like I’ve been wandering in a desert, and he’s the rain I didn’t even know I was waiting for. 

Suddenly, the world doesn’t seem so lonely anymore. 

It feels like coming home.