This Type of Love
I ain’t found it yet…
but I feel it.
Like the hush of a breeze before the rain,
like the way your soul know somethin’ coming—
something real, something sacred.
This type of love?
It won’t come in DMs or drive-thru moments.
It won’t flex for a post,
won’t ghost when it gets too close.
It’ll move like morning light—
soft, but sure,
gentle, but powerful.
The kind that makes you stop and breathe,
just to say, “God… thank you.”
See, I dream of a man who prays when I can’t.
A man who hears my silence
and ain’t afraid of the weight I carry.
One who don’t just want me when I’m smiling,
but holds me when my mascara becomes confession.
He gon’ see me,
not just my body,
not just the parts that glow in public—
but the parts that hide.
The little girl still healing inside,
the woman who fought too many nights
just to feel worthy of soft love.
I crave love that don’t rush me,
love that learns me.
One that walks beside me,
not ahead, not behind—
but with me.
Matching my steps,
matching my soul.
This type of love gon’ taste like peace.
A man whose voice calms my chaos,
whose laugh feel like home.
One who opens jars and doors,
but also opens his heart,
with no fear, no ego, just truth.
I want forehead kisses at midnight,
deep talks ‘til the sun peeks in.
Hands held tight in prayer,
arms wrapped ‘round me like safety.
A love that don’t shout,
don’t show off,
but shows up.
Every. Single. Day.
This ain’t no fairytale,
ain’t no movie love.
This the kind built in God’s timing,
not man’s rush.
Designed, refined,
divinely aligned.
He gon’ love me out loud,
but also in whispers—
in the way he remembers my stories,
in the way he listens without fixing,
in the way he covers me in the spirit
when life tries to strip me bare.
I ain’t met him yet…
but I feel him.
In the quiet moments when I choose to wait,
in the healing I do so I’m ready to receive,
in the hope that don’t quit
even when loneliness tries to lie.
And when he comes?
Lord, when he comes…
it’ll feel like an answered prayer
wrapped in flesh and faith.
And I’ll know—
this type of love…
was always meant for me.
And I’ll cry,
not from pain,
but from the kind of joy
only heaven can explain.
