✢────────── 𝔊 ──────────✢ It’s more than simply saying, “I miss you.” Open or closed, I still see us together. You pass through places I can’t reach, yet the ache already feels like forever. The roads that failed to keep their course don’t echo once inside my mind. I’m with you now despite the miles, still carving love through the grind. Nothing whispered near or far can shake me quite the way you are. Every path we’ve dared to choose will fold us back in what we do. There was no ward that could contain the way we circle back again. No language built for this exchange just presence burning through the range. What people call forever now is not a line or spoken vow. It’s what keeps returning when we lose each other, meet again. Distance doesn’t act like empty form or simple lack. It leans instead toward overlap, a quiet gravity pulling us back. I don’t measure what divides that old arithmetic has died. I only trust what still remains when everything around refrains. The journey isn’t pointing out a fixed arrival, end, or route. It is what keeps occurring through whatever I become with you. I stopped trying to locate you as something separate, withdrawn, or true. There’s no thorn where you begin that doesn’t pull me back within. Each heartbeat rearranges sense beyond what words can comprehend, until what felt like “between us” dissolves where separate selves suspend. So if there’s distance, it won’t stay it folds itself back into way. Something in the distance proves exactly what we are when we move. ✢────────── 𝔊 ──────────✢ Written in 𝔊ray © 2026 ✢──────────────────────✢
