There’s a pulse in the air,
a rhythm I didn’t know I was moving to
until now.

A door cracked open,
and I’m standing at the threshold,
palms tingling,
heart racing,
wondering if I’ll be brave enough to walk through.
It’s not fear—
not exactly.
It’s the kind of nervous that comes
when you realize something could matter.
When you see a spark and think,
What if this catches?

Soft smiles feel warm,
like the sun hitting part of me
I forgot needed light.
The way they listen in a way that ensures me I am heard.
The way words linger in my heart, building history that defies time.
This is a language I didn’t know I was fluent in, 
A safety that is as familiar as it isn’t.
And I want to dive in,
but also,
I don’t.
Not yet.
There’s something about leaning in
that makes me pause,
like holding a delicate gift
I’m afraid to unwrap.

What if I’m too much?
What if they see the tangled mess inside
and decide it’s too wild,
too loud,
too me?
But then again,
what if they don’t?
What if they step closer,
reach in,
and say, I get it.

The possibility buzzes in my chest,
a mix of hope and holy apprehension.
Because there’s weight in this kind of friendship—
the kind that holds your silences
as gently as your stories.
The kind that looks you in the eye
and says, I see you, even here.

It’s a leap,
but not one we’ll take alone.
It’s walking into a deeper kind of knowing,
with all the awkward pauses
and stumbled jokes
and late-night confessions
and irrational hilarity...
With all the shared history that wasn’t
and the pain that isn’t spoken
and the things believed in
and hoped for
that come with it.

And maybe it’s not perfect.
Maybe we’ll trip over boundaries,
misread intentions,
have moments where we question the fit.

But maybe,
just maybe,
it’s worth the risk.
Because if it works—
like it feels like it could work—
when we find the rhythm,
when the air around us grows sweet
and full of light—
it’s a kind of magic
we won’t stumble into every day.

So here I stand,
breath held,
heart open,
ready to walk through the door,
ready to see what’s waiting on the other side of tomorrow.