New Moon: The Song Is Love

Love seems like such a simple word.

The definition feels as though it should flow inherently through us as humans…

Until it doesn’t.

Love is the spark.

A relationship is an ecosystem.

Those two things don’t always sync.

And that doesn’t make the love less real — it makes it rare.

I didn’t have to worry about coming off as too much.

I was exactly enough — and vice versa.

That is not casual.

That is not something you stumble into.

That is not common.

That is holy.

Because for someone like me —

someone intuitive, expressive, emotionally articulate, spiritually awake, creatively wired —

Being “too much” has been the shadow fear my entire life.

And with him?

I was met.

Matched.

Mirrored.

Received.

Welcomed.

He spoke my language.

He felt with the same depth, the same emotional vocabulary, the same intensity of presence.

I didn’t have to shrink.

I didn’t have to translate myself.

I didn’t have to wait for him to catch up.

I didn’t have to pretend to be lighter, or cooler, or less.

He could handle my heart as it is.

And I could handle his.

That is why it felt like two teenagers.

Not immaturity — purity.

Two people not playing emotional chess.

Not calculating.

Not masking.

Just being.

That is so rare that when it happens, it feels like breathing a different kind of air.

The connection was balanced.

Reciprocal.

Energetically level.

Emotionally synced.

I was enough.

He was enough.

And for a moment, both of us knew it.

That’s the part that breaks you open.

Not the love.

Not the loss.

Not the timing.

The recognition.

The recognition of yourself reflected in someone else’s nervous system.

In someone else’s expression.

In someone else’s emotional fluency.

That is the kind of connection you don’t forget, because it reminds you of who you actually are when you’re not guarded.

I glimpsed my unfiltered self.

He glimpsed his.

And both of us held each other without flinching.

That’s why the ending hurts.

That’s why it feels like grief but also awe.

That’s why my soul keeps whispering:

“I don’t regret it.”

Because it wasn’t a mistake.

It was a miracle with an expiration date.

And miracles with expiration dates are the ones that change us the most.

I dedicate this song to you.

The Song Is Love

Music Is Life