When i say i miss you, i mean this.
i close my eyes and see you — not just a voice on the phone, but your hand in mine, warm and steady, like it was always meant to be. i dream of mornings where our tea steeps between us, and the quiet hum of your breath is the only sound i need. i hold onto the hope that distance is just a story we’ll tell someday — a chapter before the pages turn to us, together, finally home.










