Craving
I was happy in my world,
a quiet contentment,
a gentle hum beneath the surface of my days.
I built a life of solitary joys,
small victories and whispered dreams,
each moment neatly folded into the next,
a mosaic of self-sufficiency.
But then you came along,
like the first breath of dawn
after a long, starless night.
You walked into my world,
not with fanfare or thunder,
but with a soft smile
and a quiet grace that turned my gaze,
made me see colors I hadn’t known were missing.
I was happy before you,
truly, I was.
But now, happiness feels different,
as if it has grown new roots,
reaching deeper into the soil of my being.
It’s still there,
still attainable by my own hand,
but somehow, it’s less vivid,
less whole without you.
It’s as though you’ve become
the lens through which I see the world,
sharpening the edges of joy,
softening the harshness of solitude.
I used to think my happiness was complete,
a circle drawn in perfect symmetry,
but now I see the space you fill,
a space I didn’t know was empty.
And so, I find myself craving you,
not out of need,
but out of a desire to share
this life I’ve built,
to blend our paths and
create something even more beautiful.
Because while I was happy in my world,
with you, happiness has a new depth,
a richness I can’t ignore.
It’s as if the music of my life
has found its harmony,
and now, the melody feels incomplete
when you’re not near.
I was happy in my world,
but now, with you,
happiness has become a shared secret,
a whispered promise,
a quiet, unspoken truth
that I don’t want to live without.
