03/06/2025
๐๐๐ง๐๐ฅ๐๐ฅ๐ฌ | ๐ง๐ผ ๐ฏ๐ฒ ๐น๐ผ๐๐ฒ๐ฑ ๐ฎ๐ ๐๐ต๐ฒ ๐ต๐ถ๐ด๐ต๐ฒ๐๐ ๐ฐ๐ผ๐๐ป๐
I used to equate love with measurementโsomething to be counted in fancy anniversaries, grand gestures, or the number of times someone said โI love youโ from dusk till dawn. As if affection could only be earned through exhaustion and audacious efforts. I once believed love was plain euphoriaโblaring, bold, and ever golden. As if it were built on infinite happiness, perfectly devoid of trials and tribulations.
๐๐ถ๐ต ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ, ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ด๐ต. ๐๐ต ๐ด๐ช๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ญ๐บ ๐จ๐ช๐ท๐ฆ๐ด ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฏ๐ฐ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ช๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด. ๐๐ฐ๐ต ๐ซ๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐จ๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ฆ๐ง๐ถ๐ญ, ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ท๐ถ๐ญ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐ฆ, ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ด๐ด, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข๐ฑ๐ข๐ณ๐ต. ๐๐ต ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ถ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฃ๐บ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ข๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ช๐ค ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ, ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ด๐ต๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐จ๐ต๐ฉ, ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ค๐ช๐ข๐ญ ๐จ๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ฆ. ๐๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต ๐ช๐ด ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฐ ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ๐ญ๐บ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ด ๐ถ๐ฑ ๐ข๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ข๐ณ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ด๐ต๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฎ๐ด, ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ๐ด ๐ฐ๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ณ๐ข๐จ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ช๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ด.
There are rooms inside us where daylight never reaches, closets we keep swept with secrets, walls built out of fears and uncertainties, and fissures outlining the ceiling, revealing the cracks of our reality. Yet, to be loved at the highest count is to be seen even in those roomsโwithout needing to turn on the lights, yet still unfaltering in exploring your horizons.
๐๐ต ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ด ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถโ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ด๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฆ, ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ช๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ณ๐ข๐ธ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฎ, ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ฏ ๐ช๐ต.
To be loved at the highest count isnโt loud. It is the kind of quiet that doesnโt need explaining. ๐๐ต ๐ข๐ณ๐ณ๐ช๐ท๐ฆ๐ด ๐ฒ๐ถ๐ช๐ฆ๐ต๐ญ๐บ, ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต๐ญ๐บ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ข๐ช๐ฏ๐ด ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด๐ช๐ด๐ต๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต. It is being handed a cup of your favorite tea early in the morning without asking. Being remembered in silences, chosen in chaos, held in someoneโs prayers even when you're miles apart, being someone's safest place and their favorite thought. It is carried with the whispers of assurance. It lingers in a random gentle pat on your shoulders whenever you are swallowed by the ocean of your worries. It lives in a home without hints of nagging echoes; without reliving the shadows of your past mistakes; without having to experience any form of violence. It is being found adorable even when your energy shrinks and being reminded of the things you loveโnot quivered by he said, she said. ๐๐ต ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ข ๐ญ๐ช๐ต๐ต๐ญ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ช๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ข๐ถ๐ต๐ช๐ง๐ถ๐ญ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ.
To be loved at the highest count means you arenโt just an option but a constant answerโalways chosen over the silence, over the distance, over the long list of hindrances. Not because youโre whole, but because even in fragments of your imperfections, they still see home. It's the kind of love that doesnโt just see youโit understands you, celebrates you, and chooses you always, even when you're hard to hold.
When living becomes dull and lifelessโjust when the world becomes a broken field plowed by painโonly then did I see how love conquers it all. ๐๐ต ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ ๐ช๐ต๐ด ๐ฑ๐ข๐ด๐ด๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏโ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ธ, ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ, ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐บ.
๐๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต, ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฎ๐ฆ, ๐ช๐ด ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ช๐ต ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฏ๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ตโ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ญ๐ง-๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ต๐บ ๐ด๐ช๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ช๐ด ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ด ๐ง๐ถ๐ญ๐ญ๐บ ๐ข๐ด ๐ข ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ.
๐๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฅ๐ด ๐ฃ๐บ: ๐๐ข๐ณ๐ฌ ๐๐จ๐ด๐ช๐ฅ
๐๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ง๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐บ: ๐๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฉ๐ข ๐๐ฐ๐ญ๐ช๐ด
๐๐ณ๐ต๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฌ ๐ฃ๐บ: ๐๐ค๐ฆ ๐๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ข
