Before the Sun Rise...

Before the Sun

Before the sun broke the sky, before rustle of the day

he leaned over me — dressed for work, smelling faintly of soap and warmth —
and kissed me.

I was still half-asleep, floating between dreams and the soft rise of wake.
And then, in the quiet hush, he said,
"I’m so lucky I get to love you."

Not have to, not try to,
but get to.

The words fell over me like soft rain on a hot day, like a secret meant only for the soul to understand.
Without thinking, I reached for him, pulling him closer, wishing he could stay, wishing to suspend this moment.

There, in that half-light, I felt it —
the rare, trembling truth of real love.
A love not made of fireworks or grand gestures,
but of everyday reverence.
A love that leans in quietly when no one is watching.
A love that steadies, lifts, and sees.

He has carried this light through storms, through the daily schedules.
He loves because he has waited for the one…that I feel.

And I —
I am the lucky one, too.
Lucky to love him.
Lucky to be loved like this…by the one.