Burning Beneath

Today I feel romantic.

Not the kind of romantic that comes from being with someone. The other kind. The one that builds quietly inside you when there is no one there to receive it.

I don’t think it’s manifesting someone. It’s more like something inside me trying to breathe. A kind of energy that has been held back for too long.

Because there is a part of me that wants to love someone with softness.

To lean close to her and whisper something quietly in her ear, just enough that she can feel the warmth of my breath. To feel her pause for a moment, that small stillness that happens when two people are close enough to feel each other’s presence.

Sometimes my mind drifts into that moment.

I imagine looking at her lips and moving closer, slowly, not rushing it. That moment before a kiss when time seems to stretch just enough to make the heart beat a little louder.

Then my lips touching the edge of her mouth.

Softly.

Not too short, not too long. Just enough to leave the feeling of something still waiting there between us.

I imagine tracing the line of her smile gently with my lips, like discovering it for the first time. A soft kiss here, another there, playful and tender at the same time. The kind of closeness where you can feel the subtle reaction in the other person, the small tremble, the breath changing, the warmth between two bodies standing close together.

And in those moments my hands don’t even need to do anything.

They just rest there, feeling the movement of her body against mine, sensing the quiet language of reactions and emotions that words could never fully describe.

I know my mind can wander far into those moments.

But the truth is, none of it is about proving anything or chasing something physical. It’s about the feeling itself. The tenderness of it. The intimacy of two people sharing a moment that belongs only to them.

The problem is…

All of that energy has nowhere to go.

So it lives inside my imagination.

And sometimes imagination becomes a refuge from loneliness.

Because life outside of those quiet imagined moments feels very different. It’s routines, responsibilities, tasks, and the endless rhythm of everyday life.

Work. Chores. Obligations.

A hamster running …

A wheel that never stops …

And on days like today everything piles on at once, the routine, the loneliness, the pressure of the future, the heaviness I see in the world around me, even the strange unpredictability of the weather outside.

Cold one day.

Warm the next.

A seesaw that never settles.

At one point today my mind became so loud I wanted to hit my head with my hands just to quiet the noise inside it.

Not because I wanted to hurt myself.

But because I needed a moment of silence.

A break.

Because when everything builds up like that, it feels like there must be something I can cut out of my life to make it lighter again.

That’s usually my solution.

Remove what’s heavy.

Remove what’s bothering me.

But today I realized something strange.

What exactly can I cut off this time?

The routines?

The loneliness?

The longing to love someone?

None of those things are easy to remove.

So instead I sit with it.

With this strange mixture of romantic energy, frustration, tenderness, and hope.

And maybe that’s the real truth behind all of it.

This feeling isn’t only about loneliness.

It’s also about the fact that my heart is still capable of loving deeply.

Even when there is no one there yet to receive it.

Maybe that love is just waiting.

Waiting quietly inside me like a bird inside a cage, pacing, wings folded, full of energy that hasn’t yet found the sky.

And maybe one day, when the right moment arrives, that bird will finally have somewhere to fly.