Verse 1
Dear Love,
I have worn out shoes looking for you
in the faces that looked back but never saw me.
I confused your name with being wanted,
with late-night calls,
with someone choosing my body
while leaving my soul outside the door.
I chased you through empty rooms,
through promises dressed up like forever.
I asked strangers to make me whole
and blamed you when they couldn’t.
But maybe you were never missing—
maybe I just didn’t know your address.
Pre–Chorus
What am I chasing when I call it love?
A hand to hold, or proof that I’m enough?
If I keep abandoning myself
to keep somebody close,
then tell me, Love—
who am I loving most?
Chorus
Dear Love, I’m done running after you
like you live in someone else’s eyes.
I’m done calling pain devotion,
calling fear a compromise.
If you are real, then meet me
where I stop betraying who I am.
Let me love without disappearing,
let me stay where I can stand.
Dear Love, I’m not chasing you—
I’m learning how to become you.
Verse 2
Dear Love,
I have seen you in a father
who showed up tired but still showed up.
In a friend who sat in silence
when words would only make it worse.
In forgiveness that didn’t erase the damage,
but refused to let it own the future.
You were never fireworks only;
you were water, bread, a door held open.
You were the voice that said,
“Rest. You don’t have to earn your place.”
You were there before the applause,
waiting underneath my shame.
Bridge
So I release every version of you
that asked me to shrink.
Every love that made me question
whether I deserved to breathe.
I will not worship a person
and call it destiny.
I will not lose my center
just to keep somebody near me.
Final Chorus
Dear Love, I’ll recognize you now:
you do not make a prison out of need.
You do not ask me to be smaller
so somebody else can lead.
You let me be human,
you let me heal, you let me grow.
And when I finally come back to myself,
that’s how I’ll know.
Dear Love, I’m not chasing you—
I’m learning how to become you.