HEM
In our story, the one shaped by every moment we shared, every quiet return, I could say we were good for each other in the way rain is good for dry earth. Necessary. Restorative. We soften each other without trying. No sharpened defenses. No created fear. We make space.
I could say we were meant for each other, perhaps not in a way fate is carved into stone, but as recognition. As two people who found the same rhythm without rehearsing it. As two nervous systems that stopped scanning when they were close. As two souls that didn’t have to perform love to feel it.
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In our story, where “meant for each other” doesn’t mean forever guaranteed, It means when we meet, something ancient exhales. We don’t consume each other and we don’t confuse intensity for truth.
I could say we’re meant because when we try to step away, the bond doesn’t break, it simply waits. Calmly. Patiently. Like it knew you’d find your way back without force.
In our story, the universe isn’t dramatic. It’s precise. It brings the two of us to rest not to burn, not to collide, but to align.
In our world, we aren’t promised forever, but when we are together, nothing feels wrong.
Inspired by a Ficus Plant
