Author’s Note

The Vows began as an exploration of devotion — not the romanticized kind, but the kind forged in ache, honesty, and reverence.

Vow I was surrender: letting the ink run dry, allowing love to unmake what was hardened.
Vow II was endurance: the willingness to break, to bear the bruise and still remain.
And Vow III — this final vow — is understanding: the quiet promise to listen, to learn, and to love without translation.

Together, they form a trinity of intimacy — the heart’s slow evolution from sacrifice to fluency, from bleeding to belonging.

This isn’t a story of martyrdom. It’s a story of witnessing: of meeting someone’s soul and saying, I see you, I’ll learn you, I’ll speak your language.
That is the purest vow I know.

— Rowan Evans

I Love You (Enough to Learn You)
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I’d let the ink run dry,
then I’d break willingly.
That was vow one,
and vow two.
This is vow three—for you.

I love you enough
to put you first—
to make you a priority
in my life.
Everyone else be damned,
I will—

learn your language,
learn the nuance,
so you can speak freely,
say exactly what you need.

I will learn the cadence of your world,
so I can understand—
not to change you,
but to meet you where you are.

I love you enough to listen
when words falter,
to read what your silence says
when your voice can’t.

I’ll make a home in your pauses,
a temple in your sighs.
You gave me peace—
so I’ll give you peace of mind.

I’ll give you understanding—
that’s vow three.
Not of silence,
not of breaking,
but of becoming fluent
in your heart.

The Silent Vows

[I Love You (Enough to Go Silent)]
A vow written in ink and silence — a confession of love so deep it would sacrifice its own voice to spare another’s tears. “I Love You (Enough to Go Silent)” is a Neo-Gothic devotion from Rowan Evans, where the act of not speaking becomes the loudest declaration of love.

[I Love You (Enough to Break Willingly)]
A vow whispered in ink and ache — love not as surrender, but as shared endurance. “I Love You (Enough to Break Willingly)” is Rowan Evans’ second vow, a quiet confession of devotion that chooses breaking over leaving, and burden over indifference.