Luna Echoes

Why does love have to feel like this?

I used to think that once I found someone, things would finally make sense. Like the emptiness I’ve been carrying would just… go quiet. I thought maybe you’d be the one to fill that space. And honestly, for a while, it felt like you did.

But now… I’m not sure anymore.
The ache is still there. That same quiet, dull pull in my chest.
And I keep asking myself—am I making this up? Am I expecting too much?
Or is this just not what love is supposed to feel like?

I know love isn’t perfect. I’m not naïve.
It’s not all soft smiles and easy days. There are hard parts.
Arguments. Misunderstandings. Silence.
Some days it’s heavy, and everything feels off.
But I always thought that after all of that—after the noise and the mess—there’d be comfort.
Something steady. A place to land.

I imagined love as coming home after a storm.
Warm lights on. Laughter in the kitchen. A hug that says, you’re safe here.
I wanted that. Still do.

And when I met you, I thought I found it.
You made me feel seen in ways I hadn’t before.
You were calm where I was chaos.
Like something solid to hold on to when everything else felt like slipping water.

You were the safe space. My soft place. The pause I didn’t know I needed.
But now… it feels different.
Like something’s shifted. Like the space you once filled in me isn’t as full as I thought.

There’s love here—I think—but it feels thin. Like the connection is fading.
Like we’re holding on with tired hands.
And it scares me. Because I don’t know if I’m in love with you,
or just in love with the idea of not being alone.

Were you meant to heal me—or just hold me together until I learned how to do it myself?

I don’t have the answers. I wish I did.
All I know is… love shouldn’t leave me feeling this unsure.
And I shouldn’t feel this alone, sitting right next to someone I once called home.