Stop When Your Heart Flutters

I once thought that after the storm came peace.

Only later did I understand: the storm was mine, and the peace belonged to someone else.

A girl living under someone else's roof, caught in a cautious, one-sided love.

No entanglement, no resentment, only a gradual letting go and making peace.

The evening breeze beneath the eaves was just the same that year, but it could no longer stir the flutter of that first love.