"If He Ever Finds Me"

I’m not healed.
But I’m breathing softer.
Some days I miss no one.
Other days, I miss the idea of being missed.

If he ever finds me,
let him come gently.
Not to fix, not to rescue,
but to sit beside what’s still mending.

Let him be older.
A man whose silence holds meaning,
whose words land slow,
and whose eyes know how to see.

Let him be stable,
not in money alone,
but in mind. In presence.
Let his peace not demand,
but invite.

Let him carry the ease
of someone who’s walked through fire
and still smells of rain.

Let him be strong,
not loud, but rooted.
Not flawless,
but honest.

Let him be Korean,
with grace in his posture
and discipline in his steps.
Let his care show in small ways,
the way he listens,
the way he lets me bloom.

And if he never comes,
I’ll still rise.
But if he does,
may he find me
not waiting,
but living.