CHAPTER LI
Always Thinking of You
I don't know the shape of your days,
or the rhythm of your laughter,
yet my heart holds you
as if it has known you forever.
You are a stranger,
but in you I see something familiar—
like a melody I've heard in another lifetime,
soft, eternal, unfinished.
Love doesn't always ask for reason,
it simply arrives,
quiet but certain.
And so, even in the silence between us,
even in the distance we keep—
my heart repeats its truth:
I am always thinking of you.
"Sita – The Words I Could Never Say in Time"
The screen glows softly before me, a blank page waiting—no, begging—for me to spill what I've carried inside for so long. My fingers hover above the keyboard, trembling, because tonight I'm not writing for myself, not for Rama, not even for the world.
I'm writing for you, Sita.
I close my eyes, and there you are—sitting across from me as if you've always belonged there. Your eyes, wide and searching, hold me in a way that makes lies impossible. And in this imagined silence, I find the courage my lips could never gather.
So I begin.
Sita, these are the words I could never say in time.
Do you know how many moments I lost to silence?
How many times I wanted to speak, to confess, but fear kept chaining me down?
I wanted to tell you how your laughter softened the sharpest corners of my soul. I wanted to admit that even on the darkest nights, your presence—just your name—was enough to keep me breathing.
But I didn't. I couldn't.
Instead, I swallowed every confession, every trembling truth, until it carved wounds inside me. I smiled when I wanted to cry. I stepped back when all I wanted was to take your hand and never let go.
And now… the weight of those unsaid words drowns me.
I never told you that in the quiet of my prayers, it was always you. That when I wrote those poems, hidden behind another's name, it was my soul calling to yours. That each message you clung to wasn't Rama's—it was mine. And maybe, just maybe, you loved me all this time without knowing it was me you loved.
Sita, the truth is simple.
Every silence between us was filled with love.
Every moment I looked away was because I was afraid of what you might see if I didn't.
Every word I didn't say in time… is written here tonight, for you.
If you were really sitting in front of me now, if I had just one chance to finally let my heart speak, I would only say this:
You are my home, my hope, my endless prayer.
And even if the world falls apart, even if time betrays me again, I will find you in every lifetime—
Because love like this cannot stay unsaid forever.
I pause, staring at the words on the screen, tears blurring the letters until they look like pieces of my heart scattered across the page. My hands shake as I type the last line, the one I could never speak aloud but now dare to write:
"Sita, I love you. Always. In every silence, in every word left unsaid—
it has only ever been you."
"The Beginning of a Love That Never Left"
If I speak the truth, then my love for Sita is not something new.
It isn't sudden, nor is it a fleeting spark.
It is old—so old that I can no longer remember the exact moment it began.
But if I were to trace its roots, I'd say it started the day we first began to talk.
She spoke to me with the innocence of a child, her words tumbling across the screen like raindrops—playful, unguarded, pure. She would chatter endlessly, as if she carried a thousand little complaints, and I was the only one she wanted to whisper them to. And in those conversations, I began to feel something stirring—something I had never known before.
It felt as though she trusted me with the corners of her heart she had hidden from everyone else. As though her words were keys, and with each one, she was unlocking a door I didn't even know existed inside me.
Reading her messages, I would often pause, holding my breath, and my soul would whisper, She is yours. She is the one you've been waiting for.
And in those quiet moments, when it was just me and the echo of her words, I began to write.
The Poem I Wrote for Her
You came to me not with grand confessions,
but with whispers,
with little complaints
that sounded sweeter than love songs.
Each word of yours was a fragile lantern,
guiding me out of my own darkness.
I did not fall in love with your beauty first,
but with the way you trusted me
with the pieces of your heart no one else had touched.
You were a child in your laughter,
but a universe in your silences.
And I—
I became a wanderer who never wanted to leave.
If the world asked me when I began to love you,
I would not say it was in one moment—
but in a thousand tiny ones,
woven together like starlight
that slowly, quietly,
became my whole sky.
And so it began—
my love for her, not in lightning strikes, not in sudden flames,
but in the gentle, patient rhythm of conversations.
In the way she made me feel like I was someone worth speaking to.
In the way her words filled the emptiness inside me with colors I didn't know existed.
And though time has passed, though seasons have changed, my heart still carries the echo of that beginning. A love so old, so unshakable, that it feels as though it was always meant to be.
To be continue....