When he finally had to return to France, I tried to stay strong. But I could see the sadness in his eyes,
and it broke me. We had only known each other for a week, yet it felt as though we had shared a
lifetime.
Distance arrived suddenly and without mercy.
The first mornings without him felt wrong—the bed colder, the room quieter. I missed him in ways I
couldn't explain. Even so, his presence never truly left. Across time zones and oceans, we stayed
connected: messages carefully timed, gentle calls, virtual kisses meant to close the space between us.
I learned that love doesn't disappear with distance—it transforms. It becomes patience. Trust. Effort.
Every day carried longing, but also certainty. Whatever this was between us, it was real. And the
universe, once again, seemed to whisper the same message:
Keep going.