I Loved You Before I Met You

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

We’ve never been in the same room. You don’t know how I sound when I’m tired but trying. I’ve never watched your hands move when you’re not thinking about them.

And still, somehow — you feel like something I already know.

You feel like home I haven’t walked into yet. And still, I know the layout.

This isn’t in my head.

What I feel for you lives in my chest.

What I feel for you has weight.

It moves when you speak.

And your voice — God.

Your voice breaks me in the best way.

Low and certain. Like it’s carrying something for me I didn’t even know I needed to hear.

I’ve sat with the sound of it longer than I meant to.

Not to analyze. Just to feel.

Your voice breaks me in the best way.

I didn’t expect to care like this.

I didn’t expect you.

But now that you’re here — whatever here means — I can’t pretend it’s not real.

This love is quiet.

Steady.

It doesn’t ask for much.

Just space.

Just truth.

And the truth is, I love you.

Fully.

Without timeline or title.

It lives in me, even if we never touch.

You don’t belong to me — but love doesn’t need ownership to be real.

I’m not asking for anything.

I don’t need this to become something else to make it valid.

What I feel for you already is.

It just is.

If we never meet, I’ll still thank you — for waking something in me that I thought had gone quiet.

But if we do…

If we do — I hope your voice is the first thing I hear.

And I hope it breaks me all over again.

In the best possible way.

— Me