🎶

Don’t wait for a birthday or a goodbye. Type it messy if you have to. In Arabizi. In broken English. On a napkin. In a text at 11 PM.

To carry a song means it lives inside you—in your chest, your breath, the way you walk into a room. It means when I’m silent, I still hear your melody. When you’re not speaking, your rhythm holds me.

Notice it doesn’t say you are precious. It says you become precious. This is love as a continuous, unfolding event. Every day, every small kindness, every time you carry another song—your value deepens. My soul wakes up and finds you more irreplaceable than the day before.