Wednesday
Wellknown Ace
My favourite person,
You may never read this, and perhaps that’s for the best. I wouldn’t want my words to weigh too heavily on you—though, if you did happen to stumble upon them, I’d hope you’d feel the warmth between the shadows.
You exist in a corner of my mind that never goes quiet. Even when I’m surrounded by silence, you hum there softly—an echo of laughter, a memory that refuses to fade. I catch myself wondering how your day went, if you’ve eaten, if you smiled. It’s ridiculous, I know. But my affection has never been rational.
Sometimes I think about how fiercely I want to protect you. Not in a controlling way—just a quiet, devoted way. I’d stand between you and the world if I had to. I’d collect your sadness and lock it away somewhere safe, so it could never touch you again.
If anyone ever hurt you, I’d be calm—terrifyingly calm. Because my love, even in its gentlest form, knows how to defend. I wouldn’t shout. I wouldn’t cry. I’d simply make sure they remembered that some hearts, when wronged, have teeth.
But around you, I am soft. My sharpness dulls. My thoughts, usually dark and restless, turn quiet. You bring light where I usually prefer shadow—and for once, I don’t mind it. You make existing almost… tender.
If I could, I’d tell you that you are both my peace and my madness. That every version of me—cold, calm, cruelly composed—still melts a little at the sound of your voice.
I don’t need to own you. I just want to be near you. To exist in your world, even if only in small, fleeting ways. That would be enough.
So I’ll keep loving you in silence—beautifully, quietly, eternally. Like the night loves the moon: from a distance, but with unwavering devotion.
Yours,
The girl who overthinks and adores you anyway.
You may never read this, and perhaps that’s for the best. I wouldn’t want my words to weigh too heavily on you—though, if you did happen to stumble upon them, I’d hope you’d feel the warmth between the shadows.
You exist in a corner of my mind that never goes quiet. Even when I’m surrounded by silence, you hum there softly—an echo of laughter, a memory that refuses to fade. I catch myself wondering how your day went, if you’ve eaten, if you smiled. It’s ridiculous, I know. But my affection has never been rational.
Sometimes I think about how fiercely I want to protect you. Not in a controlling way—just a quiet, devoted way. I’d stand between you and the world if I had to. I’d collect your sadness and lock it away somewhere safe, so it could never touch you again.
If anyone ever hurt you, I’d be calm—terrifyingly calm. Because my love, even in its gentlest form, knows how to defend. I wouldn’t shout. I wouldn’t cry. I’d simply make sure they remembered that some hearts, when wronged, have teeth.
But around you, I am soft. My sharpness dulls. My thoughts, usually dark and restless, turn quiet. You bring light where I usually prefer shadow—and for once, I don’t mind it. You make existing almost… tender.
If I could, I’d tell you that you are both my peace and my madness. That every version of me—cold, calm, cruelly composed—still melts a little at the sound of your voice.
I don’t need to own you. I just want to be near you. To exist in your world, even if only in small, fleeting ways. That would be enough.
So I’ll keep loving you in silence—beautifully, quietly, eternally. Like the night loves the moon: from a distance, but with unwavering devotion.
Yours,
The girl who overthinks and adores you anyway.
