presence – Poetry by Rowan Evans

Introduction

Recently, I’ve seen a lot of people online talking about love—what it is, what it should be and what it feels like. A lot of it makes it sound like love should be a fairytale, or something effortless. I wanted to share my own take: what love really is, from my perspective. This is my manifesto.

Silhouettes of two people standing side by side, hands nearly touching, bathed in warm sunrise light, representing devotion and choice in love. — *Love is not effortless—it is choice, presence, and devotion, alive in everyday moments.*

Love Is Choice: A Manifesto
Manifesto by Rowan Evans

Love is not a fairytale.
It is not magic, destiny, or some effortless, perfect emotion that simply exists.
Love is work.
Love is patience.
Love is showing up, again and again, even when it is hard, even when it is mundane, even when it is inconvenient.

Love is choice.
It is the decision to walk beside someone, to carry their weight with them—not instead of them, but alongside them.
It is the conscious commitment to witness, honor, and respond to who they are, fully, unedited, and without trying to fix what isn’t broken.

Love is active.
It is listening when words are hard to find.
It is staying present when life shakes everything apart.
It is forgiving, learning, compromising, and holding space without judgment.

Love is honest.
It does not gloss over pain or disappointment.
It does not pretend every moment is blissful or effortless.
It sees the darkness, acknowledges it, and chooses to stay.
It sees the light, celebrates it, and nurtures it.

Love is courageous.
It is daring to be vulnerable, to give your heart fully without demanding repayment.
It is resisting the temptation to escape when the weight is heavy, the storm is loud, or the moment is uncomfortable.
It is understanding that enduring love is not measured by feeling, but by action.

Love is sacred.
It is not about ownership, perfection, or control.
It is about respect, devotion, and the sacred trust that comes from seeing someone in their entirety and still choosing them.

Love is worth the ache.
The effort is not a burden—it is proof of devotion.
The work is not punishment—it is a labor of care.
The challenges are not failures—they are the evidence that love is real.

Love is choice.
Love is effort.
Love is presence.
Love is not a fairytale—but it is extraordinary, transformative, and alive in the everyday, ordinary moments that are shared with intention.

If you’re looking for more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

Author’s Note

This poem is a tribute to the fierce resilience of love—the kind that’s messy, painful, and profoundly real. It honors the hopeless romantics who bear their scars like armor, who choose presence over perfection, and who dare to keep their hearts bare in a world that often demands they harden. This is for anyone who has ever loved with trembling hands and steady hope.

A lone figure stands in a storm wearing armor made of roses and ink-stained paper, with a glowing heart visible beneath. — *The Hopeless Romantic Wears Armor — a poetic embrace of love’s enduring presence beneath vulnerability.*

The Hopeless Romantic Wears Armor
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I’ve been told—
“You must be a romantic,”
like it was something delicate,
a petal too soft for stormy weather.
But they don’t see the thorns
I’ve stitched into my smile,
the way I carry hope
like a blade in my boot.

They mistake softness for surrender,
but I have loved through hurricanes—
hands trembling,
heart steady,
singing lullabies to ghosts
who only ever came to haunt.

I’ve written poems to silence,
and bled ink for people
who didn’t know what it meant
to be cherished
without condition.

I’ve fallen for echoes,
mistaken attention for affection,
believed in almosts
like they were promises.

But still—
I light candles in empty rooms,
not because I expect someone to walk in,
but because love
is a ritual I perform
even when I’m the only one watching.

I romanticize survival
because I know the cost
of staying soft
in a world that sharpens everything it touches.

And yes,
I’m a hopeless romantic—
not because I believe in fairy tales,
but because I believe
that even cracked hearts
can bloom again.

I believe in letters left on pillows,
in forehead kisses before panic sets in,
in waiting through silence
without letting it change me.

Call it foolish,
but I will always choose the ache of loving
over the emptiness of apathy.

I don’t need love to be easy—
I just need it to be real.

So if I love you,
know this:

I will not run when the storms come.
I will hold your hand through the wreckage
and whisper,
“This is not the end.”

Because love, to me,
has never been about perfection—
it’s about presence.

And I will be present.
Even when it hurts.
Even when it scares me.
Even when it means
standing alone
with my armor made of poetry,
and my heart still bare beneath it.

Closing Note

In the end, maybe that’s what it means to be a hopeless romantic:
To carry tenderness like armor, to keep loving even when it hurts,
and to trust that even the most wounded hearts can still bloom green in the ruins.

Because it does hurt. And sometimes it feels foolish.
But I’d rather ache from loving too deeply than be left untouched by apathy.

Read Next (Suggestions)

[Splinter Gospel] — A Poem of Fracture & Unrepentant Softness
[Cry to the Quiet: Sacred Desperation] — A Neo-Gothic Confessional Poem
[Luminescence & Shadow: A Forbidden Litany] — A Neo-Gothic Confessional Narrative Poem
[The Bite & Eternal Thirst] — Dark Love, Shadowed Offering & Crimson Hunger

Or explore the full archive in [The Library of Ashes]—and if your own confession aches to be written, [commission a custom poem here].

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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: presence

Love Is Choice: A Manifesto on Real, Intentional Love by Rowan Evans

The Hopeless Romantic Wears Armor | Neo-Gothic Confessional Romanticism Poetry by Rowan Evans