Steady Flame

Love doesn’t arrive with trumpets.

It slips in quietly,

tracks mud across your clean plans,

and teaches your heart new grammar.

 

You think love is fireworks—

it’s actually a steady flame

that refuses to go out

when the night gets clever with doubt.

 

Before marriage, love is learning.

Unlearning.

Breaking old habits like cheap glass.

Choosing the long road

when shortcuts whisper sweet lies.

 

You meet someone

who sees the chaos and says,

“Yes. That too.”

Not as a dare—but as a vow forming in real time.

 

Marriage isn’t the finish line.

It’s the moment you stop running alone.

Two imperfect maps laid on the table,

deciding—again and again—

to walk in the same direction.

 

It’s love with its sleeves rolled up.

Love that shows up tired.

Love that stays.

Love that turns I into we

without erasing either.

 

So when you stand there one day,

rings warm, hands steady,

know this:

You didn’t just find love.

 

You earned it.

You chose it.

You became someone

capable of keeping it.

 

©mayshatownsend