The Ruin Script

even writing this feels unusual for me. i am not the type to write letters for a man. i’ve long considered it unnecessary, almost irrelevant to the way i move through life. words like these are not given lightly. pride, ego, composure—those have always come first. but for once, i am setting them aside, because this is the only way i know how to express what i rarely say out loud.

rare is the comfort you bring. i can share my thoughts, random observations, without pretending or filtering. you listen; you respond. when i tell you about the little details—what i like, what i don’t, the small preferences most people overlook—you always reply with that confident “noted.” sometimes you forget, which makes me laugh, but also a reminder that i’m paying attention. i notice when you remember, and when you don’t. still, the intention matters more than perfection. you respect my space without making me feel distant. 

in the way you include me in your visions, plans, and ideas, there is sincerity. i appreciate it deeply, even when it carries subtle pressure, because i’ve been clear about my priorities: myself, family, career. i am not ready for anything heavy, anything defined. and yet, you do not force it. you allow me to exist as i am, while still expressing what you feel—in your own awkward, sometimes cringe, sometimes funny ways.

care is not always loud. sometimes it is in the patience you show, in how you accept my responses, in how you respect that i am not the most emotionally expressive person. remember the first time we met? for someone like me, who rarely shows softness or femininity, who prides herself on independence and composure, your gesture left an impression. you do not demand vulnerability; you allow it to surface at its own pace. and that is something i hold with quiet respect.

this valentine’s day, i am not offering promises or guarantees. i am offering acknowledgment. i will not bend my life around potential, and i will never compromise my freedom or priorities, but that does not diminish the value of what you bring. i will remain independent, composed, and cool. therefore, consider this my act of gratitude from someone who prefers composure over confession. you are appreciated. you are acknowledged—fully. sincerely. intentionally.

with hearts and gratitude,
aki

author’s note:
— bled by @achilleusdeirdre
— 14th of february, year 2026
— open to criticism; all echoes welcome.
— lowercase intended for signature writing.