A Crave For Love

Love was never explained to him,It was something he observed from a distance, something he understood through responsibility rather than affection. As the first child in a family of ten, he learned early that being needed mattered more than being seen. There were mouths to feed, younger siblings to protect, and expectations placed on him before he was old enough to understand them. Love, in his world, was survival.

He had a twin sister,his mirror in age, but not in burden. While she was allowed softness, he was trained for strength. And when the house grew too crowded, too loud, he was sent away to boarding school. There, emotions were distractions and vulnerability was weakness. He learned discipline, self-control, and independence. No one taught him how to nurture,no one asked how he felt so he learned to provide instead.

By the time Lily entered loving quietly was second nature to him. He noticed details of what made her smile, what made her tired, what she needed before she asked. He remembered the way she preferred her tea, the songs she hummed absentmindedly, the way she grew quiet when something troubled her. Loving her felt instinctive, even if expressing it felt unfamiliar.

He believed love was consistency,showing up every day. Carrying the weight so she would not have to. Planning for the future so she could feel secure in the present. He thought love was fixing what was broken before it became a problem, he thought it was enough.

But sometimes, in the stillness of the night, he sensed a distance he could not explain.

He would hear Lily turn away from him in bed, feel the subtle shift of her body, and wonder what he had missed. He noticed her smiles had grown carefully, her laughter quieter. He saw the way her eyes searched his face, as though waiting for something he did not know how to give.

He loved her, that was certain. But he did not know how to love her loudly. Words felt inadequate,touch felt awkward,emotion felt exposed. He feared that if he opened the door to his heart too widely, he would reveal how little he knew about tenderness,so he stayed steady.

He brought home small surprises instead of explanations. He worked longer hours so she would never worry,he chose action over affection, believing one day she would understand that his silence was not absence, but devotion.

Yet deep down, a quiet fear lingered.

What if love, the way he had learned it, was not the love Lily needed?

He did not know how to bridge the gap between what he felt and what she longed for. He only knew that losing her even emotionally terrified him more than any vulnerability ever could

And so, in his own quiet way, he began to hope not that Lily would change, but that somehow, love would teach him what no one ever had.