“we’ll go.”
“i can’t wait to take you there.”
“when things calm down.”
“when i’m in a better place.”
“soon.”

soon soon soon.

and I am sitting here, in the loud, breathing, very real now— heart open like a window that forgot how to close, calendar already making space for you, softness already learning your name.

why do people move through love like time is guaranteed?

like my tenderness is a subscription that renews automatically. like access to me will still be here next season. like the version of me that wants you this gently will wait in the same spot. indefinitely.

I don’t know how to love like that. when I feel something. it arrives in full sentences. it sits down at the table. it orders water for both of us. it reaches for your hand under the surface of the conversation. I don’t bookmark people for later. I dont save affection in drafts. I dont understand the concept of emotional layaway.

and maybe that’s because there was a time in my life where I couldn’t feel anything at all.

where the days were flat. where my body was present but my emotions were somewhere down a long hallway with the lights off. where I prayed — and literally prayed— “God please let me feel again. even if it hurts. even if its heavy. I just dont want to be numb”. this — right now — this overwhelming, inconvienant, badly-timed, deeply felt life is the answered prayer. so forgive me if I dont understand why people treat love like it has an extension. I asked for this heart back and i’ll be using it while it’s beating.

you say you like me. you say you care. you say you’re getting there. and I am trying to figure out why care keeps arriving without action. why the words are always dressed for tomorrow.

why the effort is always scheduled for next week.

why the version of you that chooses me loudly only exists in theory.

i am not a “when things settle down” woman.

i am not a “after this month” woman.

i am not a “once i figure myself out” woman.

i am here. in real time. loving you in present tense.

urgency is romantic to me. not pressure. not rushing. but the natural, unmistakable movement of someone who knows they don’t want to experience you passively.

the text when you think of me instead of later.

the plan made while the feeling is warm.

the compliment spoken out loud instead of saved in your chest.

the way you reach — not eventually — but instinctively.

because here is the quiet part no one says: hesitation is a decision. and delayed love still changes the outcome.

every time you choose later you are choosing a version of me that is learning how to need you less. every time you wait, i am practicing how to live without you.

not in a dramatic way.

not in a punishment way. but in the very natural, self-protective way a woman does when she realizes she is experiencing someone in real time who is only loving her in concept. i don’t want to be loved when it’s finally convenient.

i don’t want the version of you that shows up after the urgency has passed, after my hands have learned a different rhythm, after my heart has reorganized itself around my own life again. i want the love that moves.

the love that says

“i don’t want to miss this.”

“i don’t want to experience you halfway.”

“i don’t want to keep acting like i have time.”

because the truth is — and maybe this is the part that scares people — you don’t have the time.

none of us do. not in a morbid way. in a very ordinary way.

days pass. feelings shift. windows close quietly. people grow in directions that no longer face you. and the softest version of someone — the version that wants you without calculation — is not a permanent installation.

she is a moment. and i am that kind of woman.

i love in real time.

i miss in real time.

i think of you and i tell you.

i feel something and i move toward it.

i am not cool in love. i have never been good at pretending i don’t care. my heart has always been worn on the outside of my outfit like an accessory i refuse to take off. and i used to think that made me naive. now i think it makes me honest. because i would rather be the woman who loved you while it was happening than the woman who loved you perfectly in hindsight.

so if you’re waiting — for the right version of yourself, for the right timing, for your life to look a certain way, for the fear to leave your body, for certainty to arrive.

just understand this: my life is not on pause. my softness is not frozen in place. my availability is not a lifetime membership.

i am learning to give my now to people who know how to meet me here. not later. not eventually. not when it’s easier.

here.

while my heart is open. while i am looking at you like this. while the feeling is still warm. because i don’t want to keep experiencing almost-love from people who swear they’re on their way.

and i don’t want to act like I have tomorrow

to be loved the way i am ready to be loved today.

Unterstütze Natosha Jordan

why do people act like they have tomorrow to love you?

with or without a lover, im a lover.