Heavy, Heavy Love

Love that smells of wood, wind, and a hint of gasoline. Love that doesn't shine with gloss, but creaks with old floorboards and holds tighter than any vow. There is no place here for romantic euphemisms - just two people who have weathered the storm, embracing on scorched earth and deciding never to let go. One warm hand on the knee, the other on the Bible, and between them all the faith that remains.

Such a feeling is not easy - it has gravity, roots, and a history that makes your bones ache. But there is meaning in this weight. That very “heavy love” - not airy, not cinematic, but real, with the smell of smoke, with cracks, but alive.