A Plea For Forever

Beneath the moon’s uncertain glow, we stood in a silence that spoke louder than any words. Your voice, soft and trembling, broke through the stillness: “Can we kiss forever?” It wasn’t just a question—it was a plea, fragile and raw, carrying the weight of everything we didn’t know how to say.

Your hands found mine, warm and steady, tracing the edges of my soul as if mending something broken. In your touch, I felt years of loneliness dissolve, replaced by a love so profound it left me breathless.

Your eyes held a world I longed to belong to—a place where every scar told a story, and every kiss was a prayer. In that moment, I knew: if love had a language, it would sound like your heartbeat, and if eternity had a shape, it would be your lips against mine.

“Can we kiss forever?” you asked, my heart whispered it again as tears blurred my vision, desperate to keep this moment alive. If eternity could be given a name, it would be you and if forever had a feeling, it would be this.

And in that moment, beneath the trembling light of the stars, I realized: I wasn’t just falling in love with you—I was drowning in it, willingly, endlessly, beautifully.