Amandatoriii

Nothing Else Matters

“Nothing Else Matters”

A poem from her to him

 

He is a mountain kind of quiet,

steady and soft,

like old trees that don’t sway unless the wind means it.

She, a storm from the South,

warmth wrapped in firelight,

carving laughter into the room with every glance.

 

Three hundred miles stretch between their lives,

but not their hearts.

Love rides shotgun with the windows down,

music too loud,

both of them singing like the road was made for this—

like the wind

was carrying them home.

 

They count the weekends like prayers,

because the in-between hurts.

But when he’s near,

the world stills.

His hand finds hers

and all the noise fades.

 

She’s got little feet running through her house,

bedtime stories folded between the laundry.

He’s got calloused hands

and the kind of voice that feels like morning.

The moment he walks in,

everything loud in her head

goes quiet.

 

Once the house is quiet,

toys tucked away,

and little hearts dreaming down the hall,

they hold each other close in that quiet way—

like peace finally came looking for them.

They talk without talking.

They love without trying.

They let the night have them

just as they are.

 

Maybe one day

goodbye won’t be part of the drive.

Maybe the spaces between

will shrink until there’s no “your place” or “mine”—

just “ours.”

 

But until then—

they will keep driving,

keep kissing in the kitchen

with tired eyes and unspoken grace,

keep existing

in that beautiful, impossible middle place.

 

Let the music carry what words ain’t enough

They hold each other close in the softest way

Fall asleep tangled, forgettin’ the day

And nothing else matters—not the time or the place

Just the way that he melts when she touches his face

 

Not the distance.

Not the past.

Not even the pain.

 

Just her

and him—

a boy from the hills,

a girl in the rain—

still choosing each other

again and again.