When the stars gazed back at us.

When the stars gazed back at us, it was not about beginnings; it was about recognition. About that rare, almost fleeting moment when the universe did not feel distant or indifferent, but attentive, almost complicit. ;)

I woke up remembering you,

All your words, old and new.

Of dreams I hold of lands unseen,

As if your name’s the hum I’ve known, your face the only thing I’ve seen.

Even the sun bears your name,

Without you, rain feels strangely tame.

They may call me mad, broken, or even wrongly built,

I’d still reduce to dust all that may keep us apart, without remorse or even a speck of guilt.

You and me, we took an oath,

To be each other’s home through misery and gloat.

If I were to do it all over again, I would, of course, I would,

Wouldn't change a thing even if I could.

I’ve held you through your sin, you’ve seen me through my crime

Miles and miles I’ve carried all your shadows; you have borne witness to mine.

Across all lives, though you forget the signs,

My love, I must confess: for you, I’ve already tempted fate a thousand times.

Oh, I've tempted fate a thousand times.

*insert a grin

Sometimes, only sometimes, I find myself carrying the quiet audacity of a love that has survived forgetting, distance, and the long patience of fate. Probably far more than I'd ever care to admit.

Until next time

Comments

Miles of space to play with

People like to believe the universe is some grand orchestrator, shuffling fate cards like a moody blackjack dealer. But sometimes, it just sits back with popcorn and watches two people fumble their way into a slow-burning disaster that smells vaguely of espresso and unresolved tension. Enter Nat and Miles, two souls with more chemistry than a freshman lab fire, and just about as much common sense. By now, I assume you know Miles a bit. So allow me to introduce Nat. Nat. Now there’s a piece of work the universe clearly cooked up on a cheeky day. All sharp wit, unreadable playlists, and the kind of elegance that doesn’t try, it just is. She walks into a room like she already knows the ending but still watches everyone else catch up. She’ll dissect a business pitch, write a blog that punches through your chest, and still look vaguely annoyed that you haven’t figured out how she takes her coffee (strong, like her opinions, with a splash of skimmed milk and quiet judgment). But don’t be foo...

Notes from the Aphelion

There’s a story I’ve been carrying inside me for a while. Not a plot line or a pitch, but something else, something that feels like memory but also like myth. And it’s not about love, not the kind we usually talk about. It’s about Time . Yes, Time . That ever-present, slightly dramatic character that haunts everyone’s calendars, under-eyes, and birthday cake candles. Except in this story, Time isn’t a villain. It’s.. well. It’s something closer to God. And this girl I’m going to be telling you about, let’s just say she wasn’t born for chasing trends or hurrying through moments. She was more of a dusty piano in a world obsessed with bluetooth speakers. A little out of place, a little out of sync, but stubbornly intact. This story isn’t a love story in the classic sense. There are no stolen glances or sweeping gestures. But it’s still about love - the strange, slow kind. The sort that grows without asking. The sort that isn’t always easy to see, until one day, you realise it’s be...

Hello, there!

Search This Blog