This work elevates romantic expression into a disciplined act of curation, proving that true intimacy is built through intentional choice rather than mere chance. It beautifully captures how the deliberate preservation of language can transform a simple sentiment into a profound commitment.
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I've Been Saving Every Beautiful Word.. Just To Say Them To You | Sheikh Hamdan | Fazza Poems
Added:I have been saving every beautiful word.
That is the thing nobody knows about me.
The thing that has been happening quietly in the interior for longer than I can properly account for in the particular private way of something that does not need an audience to be real.
I have been collecting.
I have been moving through my life and through language and through every book I have ever read and every conversation I have ever had and every moment of genuine beauty that has produced in me the particular response of someone who feels things in words who experiences the world and then immediately reaches for the language that would be adequate to the experience and I have been saving the best of what I found.
Not consciously at first.
Not with any deliberate intention in the beginning. It started as the natural accumulation of someone who loves language the way some people love music, the way some people love light the way some people love the particular quality of early morning before the world has fully started itself.
I found beautiful words and I kept them.
I found the exact right arrangement of syllables that captured something true and I stored it somewhere um deep in the interior where it would be safe.
I found the sentences that that made me stop because they were so precisely true about something I had felt but had had not been able to say and I saved them too.
And somewhere along the way somewhere in the accumulation I understood what I was doing.
I understood that I was not simply collecting for the pleasure of collecting.
I was saving for someone.
I was keeping the most beautiful things language has ever given me with the particular care of someone who knows that what they are keeping is meant to be given.
And then I found you.
And I understood that the someone was you.
That every beautiful word I had ever saved had been waiting with the patient certainty of things that know their destination for the moment when I would be standing in front of you with all of it to give.
Uh before we go any further, there is something I want to say from the heart.
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I want to tell you about the saving, about what it actually looks like from the inside.
Because I think it is misunderstood when I say I have been saving beautiful words.
I think it sounds like something passive, like a museum collecting artifacts, like a library acquiring books, something without urgency or intention or the particular quality of keeping something safe because it matters. And it was not like that. It was more like the way you keep something precious, the way you handle something fragile with uh particular care of someone who understands its value and does not want to risk it in the ordinary handling of ordinary things.
I kept the beautiful words the way you keep something precious with both hands, with awareness, with the understanding that not everything deserves everything and that the the things worth keeping deserve to be kept properly.
I did not use them carelessly.
I did not spend the best language on moments that did not deserve it. I did not reach into the collection for something ordinary. I saved it. I kept it whole.
I protected the full weight of it for the moment when the weight would be warranted for you, for the specific persons I was keeping it for before I knew you were the person I was keeping it for.
For the one whose uh arrival would make all the saving not just meaningful but necessary.
Not just worthwhile but the only honest thing I could have done with it.
There are words I found in the early mornings. That is where most of the saving happened um in the particular quiet of hours before the world has assembled itself.
Before the noise of ordinary life has started making its ordinary claims in that space in the particular quality of early light and early silence I found the truest language.
The words that came to me there in the mornings before anything had yet been asked of me or demanded of me or directed at me from the outside, those words had a specific quality that words found in busier hours do not have.
They were clean. They were uncontaminated by the noise of everything around them.
They arrived in the silence and they had the silence in them and they were because of that more themselves than words can be when they are competing with the hundred other things that ordinary hours contain. I saved those words most carefully, the morning words.
The ones that came when I was most honest and most quiet and most genuinely myself before the day had done anything to me.
I saved them with the understanding that honesty deserves honesty in return.
That words found in the truest hours should go to the truest place and the truest place is you.
I want to tell you some of what I saved.
Not all of it. I do not think all of it can be said at once.
Um some things need the right moment within the right moment.
Need the particular configuration of circumstance and feeling and readiness that makes certain words landable in ways they are not landable in every hour.
But some of it I can give you now. Some of it has been waiting long enough that um it is ready regardless of the surrounding configuration.
Ready simply because you are here and the giving has been deferred for long enough that deferring it further would be a kind of dishonesty.
A kind of uh withholding of something that was always yours.
This is what I saved. I saved the understanding that beauty is not decorative. That real beauty, the kind that matters, uh the kind that changes the quality of the space it occupies simply by being present in it, is not something that sits on the surface of things and makes them look better.
It is something that moves through things, that has motion in it, that that enters a room the way warmth enters a room gradually and then completely until everything in the space has been changed and you cannot remember what the space felt like before the warmth arrived. That is what real beauty does.
And that is what you do.
I saved that understanding because I knew I would need the language for it one day.
I knew I would one day be in the presence of someone who was that kind of beautiful and I would need the words to say it without reducing it, without making it smaller than it is, without defaulting to the ordinary language of beauty that is always inadequate for the real thing. I saved the language and now I am giving it to you because you are the real thing, because you are the beauty that moves through spaces rather than simply occupying them.
Because you are warmth arriving and I am someone who has been changed by the arrival and I want you to know that the changing was not accidental, was not something that happened to me without my awareness.
I watched it happen. I felt the temperature shift.
I I understood in real time what was being altered and I let it be altered without resistance because some alterations are corrections rather than damage.
You corrected something in me.
You warmed something in me that had not been warm in a long time and I had the words for it because I had been saving them and now they are yours. I saved the words for what it means to be seen because this is something I have thought about for a long time and have arrived at a specific understanding of an understanding that is different from the ordinary understanding. Being seen is not the same as being looked at. Being seen is not the same as being admired or appreciated or enjoyed in the surface ways that people enjoy each other's company.
Being seen is something that requires more from the person doing the seeing.
Requires a particular quality of attention that is not passive but active.
That does not simply receive what is presented but reaches past the presentation toward what is true.
That is willing to stay long enough and look carefully enough to find uh the parts that are not immediately obvious.
The parts that are only visible when you have earned the right to look at them by demonstrating through your quality of presence that you can be trusted with what you find. Being seen is the experience of having someone looked at carefully. Of having someone stay that long. Of having someone bring that quality of attention to you and then having found what they found in the looking, choosing to remain. That is being seen and uh I wanted the language for it because I knew it was one of the things worth having language for.
And I saved it.
And now I am giving it to you because you have done that. You have looked at me with that quality of attention. You have stayed long enough to find the parts that are not immediately obvious. And you have remained and I want you to know that I know what you did. That I have the language for it.
That I saved the language for it because I believed someone would one day do it and I wanted to be ready to acknowledge it properly when they did.
I saved something about time.
About what time does when it is shared with the right person versus what it does when it is spent in the ordinary way.
I noticed this in the accumulation of experience across the years of the saving, the way that time in the wrong company or in no company at all has a particular weight and drag to it.
A particular feeling of duration that is not always comfortable.
Where the hours are aware of themselves in the way that uh long hours are aware of themselves.
Where you can feel time passing in the particular way that you can only feel it when it is not being used for anything that fully engages you.
And then I noticed what happens to time in the right company, in the company of someone whose presence is so complete and so engaging and so genuinely the right match for your own presence that time loses its drag.
Stops being aware of itself.
Becomes something you move through rather than something you wait out.
I noticed that distinction and I saved the words for it because I wanted to be able to give it to someone one day.
To the specific someone whose presence had that effect. And that someone is you.
Time in your company does not drag.
Time in your company is the lightest thing I know.
I move through it without effort.
Without the feeling of duration, without the awareness of hours passing in the way that hours are usually aware of themselves.
I am simply in it.
Simply present in it.
And then I look up and time has passed in the way that time passes when it is being used for something true without my noticing, without my waiting, simply by being completely occupied with you.
I have been saving the the words for love that does not announce itself because that is the kind I believe in most.
The kind that does not make proclamations or perform itself for an audience or require external confirmation to know it is real.
The quiet kind, the kind that exists in the ordinary moments rather than the extraordinary ones. That shows up not in the grand gestures, but in the small consistent ones.
In the noticing of small things.
In the remembering of what matters to someone and then acting on that memory without being asked. In the particular care that um does not draw attention to itself.
That does not need to be seen performing in order to know that it is caring.
That love, the quiet everyday undramatic love, is the kind I have the most language for.
Because it is the kind that I have thought about most carefully and for the longest time. And it is the kind I want to offer.
Not the love of extraordinary moments, though I will be present for those, too.
The love of ordinary hours.
The love that shows up when nothing special is happening and makes the nothing special into something worth having.
That is what I have been saving the words for.
And I am giving them to you now not because this is the right moment in any dramatic sense, because you are here and the words were always yours.
And then they have been waiting long enough.
I want to give you the words for what it feels like to choose someone because choosing is different from falling.
Falling is what happens to you.
Choosing is what you do.
And I want to be clear about uh the distinction because it matters to me and because I think it should matter to you to know the difference in what I am offering.
Falling suggests passivity, suggests something that that occurred to you rather than something you engaged with deliberately. Suggests that you are in a state that was produced by external circumstances rather than internal decision. And I did not fall. Or if I fell, the falling was the very beginning and I have been choosing ever since. And I have been choosing you in the active daily way of someone who has looked at every available option and found this one to be not just the best, but the only one that is fully real.
And the only one that corresponds to what I know from the long interior education of the saving is worth choosing. I choose you with my full awareness.
With the complete engagement of someone who understands what the choice means and is making it anyway.
Is making it because of what it means.
Because choosing something real over the comfortable alternative is is is not a sacrifice. It is the most intelligent possible use of the choosing capacity. And I am choosing you deliberately, completely.
With everything I have saved and everything I have learned and everything I have become and um in the long years of the saving, I am choosing you with all of it.
You are Fazza. You are Sheikh Hamdan.
You are the person the saving was always for.
The destination every beautiful word was always traveling toward even before I knew the destination had a name and a face and a specific quality of presence that I would recognize immediately upon encountering it.
You are the reason I kept the morning words and the words about beauty and the words about being seen and the words about time and the words about love that does not announce itself.
You are the reason I protected all of it with both hands and refused to spend it carelessly and waited through all the waiting until I was standing in front of someone who was worth every word of it.
You are that someone.
You have always been that someone. I I just had to save long enough to arrive at you.
Had to keep the words intact through everything that happened before you.
Had to trust that the saving was the right practice.
That the keeping was not hoarding but faithfulness. Faithfulness to the truth that something this beautiful, this real this completely worth the language was coming.
That it existed, that it would arrive.
And it did. You did and I am standing here with everything I saved.
With every morning word and every honest hour and every beautiful arrangement of language that I kept for you through all the years of not yet knowing your name and I am giving it to you now.
All of it.
With both hands, without reservation, without holding anything back for later because you are the later. You are every later I was saving for.
You are the destination every beautiful word was traveling toward and they have arrived and they are yours.
Every single one of them was always yours.
I have been saving every beautiful word.
And now I am saying them all to you.
Before you leave, I want to thank you for staying with me until the very end.
I know there are millions of videos you could have watched today, yet you spent these moments here.
But, there is one thing I noticed recently.
More than 90% of the people who watch these videos still have not subscribed.
So, if this poem touched something inside you, if it reminded you of someone, somewhere, or some feeling you thought you had forgotten, I hope you will subscribe.
It is free, and it helps these stories continue.
And, before you go, tell me what part of this poem stayed with you the longest.
I would love to read your thoughts below.
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