Jul 5
He wasn't there. But something was. 🤍
Late nights alone in the apartment can feel incredibly quiet. Sitting by the window, watching the city lights blur, the distance between us sometimes feels a little heavier than usual.
Then, a plain kraft box appeared at my door. Inside, bathed in the warm light, was a handcrafted crochet bouquet. It doesn't have the fleeting beauty of fresh roses; instead, it carries a steady, grounding warmth that is made to last. Holding it, I couldn't help but smile.
Now it sits by my window, making the sprawling city skyline seem a little softer. Even across the miles and time zones, he always finds a way to remind me that I am deeply loved.
👉 Discover the slow life (Link in bio)