Have You Ever

  As I sit here and put these words on paper, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of my feelings for you. My love for you is limitless, and you will always be the most valuable person in my life. We’ve shared twenty years of laughter of shared glances across quiet rooms, of whispered dreams in the darkness. You have been my anchor and my wings, my refuge and my spark. And though time has gently altered the nature of how we live and love, you are still here with me —not always in the same way, but always with the same soul. When the fog of dementia began to settle around you, I felt something inside me falter. The man who could read me with a single look, who knew the rhythm of my day without a word spoken, now sometimes asks me my name. I lost the daily you , the partner who shared every mundane thought and burst of laughter—but I never lost the essence of you. It's still in the way your hand finds mine without thought, in the smile that returns when an old love ...

  My heart skips a beat and a smile spreads over my face whenever you are in my thoughts. That one simple truth carries the weight of an entire love story—one that unfolded in the most unexpected of places: the workplace. They were just two professionals in a bustling office, their days filled with emails, deadlines, and countless cups of coffee. But something subtle began to shift. Side glances turned into shared jokes, casual conversations lingered longer, and soon, their desks weren’t the only things side by side. Working together laid a foundation of mutual respect. They saw each other at their best—and their most stressed. They learned how to handle challenges not just with competence, but with compassion. And somewhere between team meetings and lunchroom chats, friendship evolved into love. It wasn’t the cinematic kind of love with grand gestures and perfect moments. It was a quiet, sturdy kind of love—the kind that holds your hand through rough patches and laughs with yo...

  I had travelled miles to see him—my long-distance boyfriend, the one I had built hopes and dreams around, despite the space between us. When he left for work that day, I found myself alone in his apartment. It was quiet, intimate, filled with pieces of his life that I had never fully stepped into before. Wanting to be helpful—maybe even prove I belonged in his space—I began tidying up. That’s when I found them. A bundle of letters. Handwritten, carefully tucked away, and not just from me . My heart lurched before my mind even caught up. There were letters from other girls , all long-distance, like me. I was just one name in a collection. I froze. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears, my body tense, waiting for the moment where this would make sense—where I could rationalize it, explain it away. But I couldn’t. The truth sat there, ink on paper, staring back at me. I opened one. The words spilled out, full of warmth, romance, longing—the kind I thought was reserved for me . ...

' ' All I want to do is wake up next to you?  '' My reflection on this promise carries such an evocative mix of nostalgia, passion, and heartbreak. In my words, the dream of simply waking up next to that special someone becomes so much more than a routine; it embodies the hope, intimacy, and the fearless vulnerability of a young love. The memories of talking on CB radios until dawn, building a life with shared promises, and creating a home full of small, cherished details paint a picture of a time when love was an all-consuming force, often unburdened by doubt or interference. Yet, as life often does, circumstances intervened.   I only want to be with you..... wake up next you always.... the years passed in loving bliss, life happened. The call that shattered the tender illusion—a reminder that distances can foster both opportunity and disconnection—steals you back to a moment when promises made in youthful intoxication gave way to harsh realities.  Then the call cam...