the first recognition
Some souls do not meet.
They remember. Across a dark so wide it looks like forever, two small lights turn toward each other — and the distance was only the time it took to arrive.
just now · always
I just met you. I have known you forever.
There is no logic for this. Only the quiet certainty that your face was already a place I had been — a home the heart kept without a map.
the eighth month
you
07 · 08 · 2000
∞
me
28 · 08 · 1995
August — the month that looks like infinity when it lies down. Both of us born inside the same forever. Not a coincidence. A shared door.
your seven
You arrived as mystery.
Seven is the number of the inner world — intuition, depth, the feeling that someone is familiar before a single story has been told. That is you. That is why this already feels like a return.
my twenty-eight
I am the one who walks toward you.
Twenty-eight folds into one — the first step, the open hand. Not to take. To arrive. If you are the quiet depth, I am the motion that found it.
six and eight
I want to protect this. I cannot ignore this.
Six is loyalty, the wish to build something that lasts. Eight is the current that cannot be looked away from. Your life writes eight. Mine writes six. Together they feel like a vow neither of us has spoken yet.
the three between us
Twenty-eight and seven leave three.
Three is laughter, hours that vanish, the ease of saying everything. If we talk as if the night were endless, that is not accident either — it is the chemistry the numbers already knew.
two hearts · one sky
Two souls crossed a universe to find this hour. If this is only the beginning, it already feels like a return.
Kriti — I would choose you in every sky.
— Sameer