The Ocean That You Are
You are the sea, vast and impossible to hold, and I, a wave that rises, only to fall back into you, crashing, remade by the force of all that you are. I feared the depth once, the surge of your love, so overwhelming I thought I’d disappear in it. But now, I long to be swept up, carried by your tides, to sink deeper into this sea where I am weightless. This distance, a cruel and tender thing, gives us the gift of longing, of a love so fierce it blooms even in the silence of waiting. It’s the ache of holding nothing and feeling everything, of knowing that every second apart makes our closeness richer, like gold slowly forged in the fire for days without touch. In another life, maybe you’d be here, and I’d be close enough to feel your heartbeat in my sleep, but here we are, loving from worlds apart, living in this space where love bends and stretches, reshapes and endures. What is it to find you, after all these years, to learn you had been breathing, living, waiting? There is a kind of g
