Friday, April 11, 2025

๐—Ÿ๐—œ๐—ง๐—˜๐—ฅ๐—”๐—ฅ๐—ฌ: "A Unique Kind of Love" by Khate Ashley Zaneah D. Castillo



Layout by: Louise Gabryael Quijano

Published by: John Kurt Gabriel Reyes

Date Published: April 11, 2025

Time Published: 2:33 PM


Category: Prose

Theme: The power of love and connection against physical separation.


๐˜ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ'๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜บ ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ. It's a weird feeling, right? The way you occupy my mind even though you're not physically present. I see your face in the crowds, I hear echoes of your voice in the wind, knowing it's just my pure imagination playing tricks on me. It sometimes serves as my lullaby, a gentle rhythm that soothes my worries and brings me peace. It reminds me of our shared laughter and the simple joy we found in each other's company.

Maybe it's the conversations that felt deeper than just words on a screen because there's a genuine connection. The understanding in just a single glance across a screenโ€”that fleeting moment, our shared humor and shared pain, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ-๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ฌ๐˜ด ๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ต ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ญ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜บ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข๐˜บ.

Knowing that I can't physically feel you creates a distance that's both frustrating and fascinating. It is a yearning for something intangible, I'm longing for the warmth of your presence. I find myself reaching out instinctively, only to remember the emptiness of where your hand should be.

Sometimes I wonder if this intangible connection is strong enough to call it a unique kind of love, a love made of words, a love that exists in the spaces between the lines, and in the silences between our messagesโ€”a love that lives in every corner of my heart.

But even with that distance, the physical separation, you're still there like a whisperโ€”in the back of my mind. A reminder that even in the absence of physical presence, a connection can still happen, that it can still exist and I admit that it is something I find both strange and...beautiful.

๐˜๐˜ต'๐˜ด ๐˜ข ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ด๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ด๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆโ€”๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ.

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