Until I Met You

Three lines. The whole shape of meeting someone who rewrites what you thought you knew.

Some poems take a hundred lines to get where they’re going. This one took three.

I searched my whole life…

Never knew what love could be

Until I met you

You can spend years building a working theory of love out of every approximation you encounter — close calls, near-misses, the ones that almost were. The theory holds up. It explains the data. You’re fine.

And then someone walks in and the theory just stops being useful. Not because it was wrong, exactly. Because the new thing is operating on a different axis entirely.

That’s the whole poem. Three lines were all it needed.

— JTC

Stay close to the words.

New verses, twice a month. No spam — just words built to linger.