Loyalty knows no bounds.
It builds no walls.
It doesn't demand attention
it simply exists,
like breath in silence,
like a flicker in the middle of a long, dark night.
It isn't loud, but when it leaves,
it echoes louder than any goodbye.
True loyalty doesn't just sit in the mind.
It steams,
It steams from pain, from fire, from memory.
It rises from the soul
raw, unfiltered, burning its way through the body
until it anchors itself to the heart.
And when it's real,
when it's right,
love finds it.
Even if it's late.
Even if it's too broken to be recognized.
But that's the thing they never tell you,
that loyalty doesn't always come with joy.
Sometimes, it bleeds.
It holds on when everything else lets go.
It whispers, "Stay,"
even when the world screams, "Leave."
And what happens when that loyalty
isn't returned?
When your soul offers its warmth
to someone who only came to borrow light?
You don't just lose love.
You lose the pieces of yourself
you gave in its name.
You lose sleep,
trust,
quiet.
You lose the version of yourself
who still believed
that love meant choosing each other,
even on the days it hurt.
And yet,
some part of you still believes in it.
Not because it didn't break you,
but because loyalty…
even in pain…
is the one thing you offered
without condition.
That's what makes it sacred.
And that's what makes it cruel.
Because in the end,
you can be loyal,
you can be whole,
you can be everything
and still be leftt behind.
But if love is real,
it will always find its way
back to that kind of loyalty.
And if it doesn't,
then maybe it was never love to begin with.