The Weight of a Heart

The message sat there, glowing softly on the screen: Don’t worry. My words, sent in a moment of boldness—or was it vulnerability? I couldn’t tell anymore.

I placed a heart on her reply, but you can imagine how much I worried.

This wasn’t my first time standing at the edge of something uncertain, but it was my first time doing it for love. My past was full of leaps—some daring, some foolish—but always for myself. I’d chased dreams, gambled on chances, and carried the consequences alone. But now, the stakes were different.

This was her. This was us.

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the message. Don’t worry. Two words that could mean so much or nothing at all. They could be a reassurance, a plea, or even a warning. I wasn’t sure anymore which one I intended when I sent them.

Love is a strange, beautiful thing. It exposes the parts of you you’ve spent years hiding—even from yourself. It makes you feel alive and vulnerable all at once. And yet, it also teaches you to let go. To leap.

But this leap was unlike anything I’d ever taken. Because this wasn’t just about my heart; it was about trusting hers.

The silence was loud, the seconds stretching into hours as I waited for her next move. My mind raced with questions, doubts, and hopes all at once. Did she feel the same pull I did? Or was I just another moment in her story, while she was becoming the defining chapter in mine?

And then it happened. A single vibration. Her name flashing across the screen.

I hesitated before opening it, my heart pounding like it already knew the answer waiting on the other side.

Because sometimes, two fucking words are all it takes to change everything.