What is love, really?
Not the slogan.
Not the wound dressed as destiny.
Not the contract.
Not the hunger.
Not the performance of goodness.
Not the story that teaches a woman to disappear beautifully.
Love is harder than that.
Love is the force that says:
Become.
Not belong to me.
Not complete me.
Not save me.
Not make me real.
Not carry the part of myself I refuse to…
