What does it mean to be here?
6500 miles from the place I call home, I watch the people I care for carry on in my absence.
How long will it take for my love to travel across the seas?
In an age where online shopping is a norm, when everything is answered in a blink of an eye, this question may very well strike as redundant. It’s no longer a question of how long it will take, but how long will it exist.
Here, these are my whispered hopes in the moonlight:
When you find yourself unable to sleep because of pain, remember me. I’m wide awake because of what geography does to the sun and time. I’m catching rainbows while you’re catching stars, we’re watching lights no matter where we are. And we both know that deep down, light has a way of triumphing the dark. It pierces the illusion of fear and melts the shadow of doubt away.
To be here, it might be all that I have. This moment will never come by again. Yet it might be all I need.
This I know: I will hold you, even as we hold on to the God that never lets go.