Blue was never meant to be forever.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

He arrived when my heart was exhausted from waiting for someone who had forgotten that silence can hurt just as much as words. He didn't ask me to stop loving the Golden Boy. He simply met me where I was.

Every morning there'd be a sunrise.

Some days there'd be laughter that made my cheeks hurt. Other days there'd be conversations that wandered into places neither of us expected. Somewhere between the teasing, the honesty, and the moments that felt too intimate to have a name, I realised I'd let him into the parts of me I usually keep locked away.

Blue made me feel safe.

That's a dangerous thing when you've spent so long convincing yourself you don't need anyone.

We blurred lines without meaning to. It stopped feeling like just sex. He called it making love once, and I don't think he realised how much those words lingered. They settled somewhere deep inside me, where hope likes to hide.

Then life became loud.

Work pulled him away. Family needed him. His brother got sick. We stumbled through conversations about boundaries, expectations, and all the things neither of us had planned to feel.

I told him we were done.

Three times.

Maybe I was trying to protect my heart before it could break properly.

But every time he came back with honesty instead of anger. Not perfection. Just honesty.

Blue never promised me forever.

He never asked me to stop loving the Golden Boy either.

He simply reminded me that even a heart carrying old scars can still feel warmth when someone chooses to stay, even if only for a little while.

Maybe that's what Blue was always meant to be.

Not the end of my story.

Just the chapter that reminded me I was still capable of feeling safe enough to love.

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