love me by noticing

teach me the rhythm of your nervous system, so i may dance beside it without stepping on your silence.

how refreshing, how human, how healing to be loved in the details. not just in the broad strokes of “you’re amazing” or “you’re strong,” but in the specific way someone remembers how i like my matcha.

and so i take this list of soft invitations and i place them like prayer beads in my hands. i don’t want to be loved by someone who just sees my shine. i want to be loved by someone who hears the pause before my “i’m fine” and doesn’t assume it’s a trap. someone who knows that my silence isn’t absence, but reverence. that when i go quiet, it’s not punishment or withdrawal—it’s how i keep the sanctuary of my spirit bright and pure.

love me by listening between the lines. love me by protecting what i’ve named sacred. by honoring what feels like ceremony to me. love me by noticing.

i want to be seen in the way i curate my life. how i choose not to consume certain things, not out of ignorance but out of deep wisdom. how i don’t want to be fed chaos with a spoon and told it’s reality. i know reality. i feel it more than most. but i also have the divine right to choose how i metabolize it.

and if my eyes and ears are my sacred entry points, then love must begin there. don’t touch them with violence. don’t intrude on them with noise. love me by protecting what i use to perceive the world. i’ve spent too long being porous, too long letting the world leak in through my cracks, too long absorbing what isn’t mine. and now i want love that whispers, “may i enter here?” love that knows which mornings require softness, which glances mean “i need space,” and which silences are my way of keeping the air holy. love me by noticing.

drape me with a love that doesn’t just say “i love you” but shows it in the gentle refusal to play loud music at sunrise, in the honoring of my sensory map as my vessel’s terrain.

i am delicate on purpose. and access to me is to learn the dialect of my joy—not to perform it, but to protect it.

because i protect it. i’ve learned how. and i deserve someone who sees that, not as a burden, but as a map. a beautiful, detailed, sacred map to loving me well.

“teach me the rhythm of your nervous system, so i may dance beside it without stepping on your silence.”

with love from the stillroom,
cibelle

i write to music. enjoy a sip while you wander through…

☼ i don’t need anyone to prove me lovable
☼ the mysterious ways of love
☼ 33 realizations at 33 (thats changed everything)
☼ the ritual of burning yourself alive (spiritually speaking)
☼ to those who feel everything
☼ and sometimes, i photograph beautiful souls you may know. find me here