There was a time when love was simple:
a stolen glance, a trembling hand,
a name we wrote inside a notebook,
a feeling we could barely understand.
We thought the first heart that we gave away
would be the one that chose to stay.
Then we grew older, loved more deeply,
and made promises we meant to keep.
We learned that hearts can change their seasons,
and even faithful memories sleep.
Somewhere between hello and goodbye,
we learned how deeply love can shape a life.
Some loves are there for a season;
some stay until our final day.
Some leave footprints on our hearts,
and some leave scars that slowly fade away.
We didn't lose the years we gave them;
we would not be who we are today.
A part of every heart we've loved
still walks with us along the way.
There was the love we couldn't hold,
the one we thought would never end;
the one who left without a warning,
the one who slowly became a friend.
With every love we learned a little:
when to speak and when to hear,
how to hold without possessing,
how to give love room to breathe.
Then one day love feels different.
No fireworks need to fill the sky—
just someone walking there beside you
who doesn't need a reason why.
No chasing dreams of perfect endings,
no promises too large to keep—
just two people choosing one another,
then choosing one another again each day.
So I won't mourn the loves that left me
or wish their memories away.
They taught this wandering heart of mine
how love can ebb and return like the tide.
For every hand I couldn't hold,
for every heart I couldn't persuade to stay,
I carry something of what we were
from every love I met along the way.
And when evening finds us walking slowly,
when years have turned our hair to gray,
I'll know that all those roads behind me
were leading me to the one who stayed.