When two find each other
in this wide, whirling world,
it is never just chance.
It’s a quiet calling—
a glance that lingers,
a moment that feels
like a memory returning.
Love begins
not with fireworks,
but with the softness
of being understood.
In laughter,
in silence,
in the way they remember
how your voice drops when you’re tired.
It grows in pauses,
in showing up—
on the hard days,
in the small hours,
with nothing grand
but everything needed.
It is not perfect.
It stumbles, aches, unravels—
and still, it stays.
Not because it has to,
but because it wants to.
This is love:
not found,
but made.
Not owned,
but held.
Not a fairy tale,
but a choice—
again and again.
By Cathren Gathoni