Untitled

Maybe that’s why some strangers feel familiar.

Maybe that’s why a simple conversation can feel like coming home.

I don’t believe in perfect love. I don’t think love is grand gestures or movie scenes. I think it’s finding someone whose presence makes ordinary moments feel special.

Someone who stays.

Someone who remembers the little things.

Someone who turns a random Tuesday into your favorite day of the week.

I want the kind of connection where silence isn’t awkward, where laughter comes naturally, and where neither person has to pretend to be someone they’re not.

The kind of love that feels peaceful instead of complicated.

Maybe that person is already out there.

Maybe we’re still strangers passing each other every day.

But if fate is kind enough to bring us together someday, I hope we’ll look back and realize that every wrong turn, every goodbye, and every waiting season led us exactly where we were meant to be.

Until then, I’ll keep believing that the best stories don’t start with once upon a time

At first, he was just a dog.

Now he’s the first face I see every morning and the last one I see before bed.

He follows me around the house like it’s his full-time job, watches everything I do, and somehow always knows when I need company.

The funny thing is, Tyson doesn’t have to do anything special.

Just having him around makes an ordinary day feel a little better.

Maybe that’s what makes a great dog.

Not the tricks.

Not the training.