For the Days We Imagine

 

I don’t know what the future really holds. But I keep thinking about one part of it that feels close: you coming near me. You living in the same city. Maybe we see each other daily, weekly, fortnightly, or even just once in a while. But just knowing you’re a few minutes away from me brings hope. And with that hope come some dreams, simple ones and moments I want to live with you.

I dream of the first time I’ll see you in person. Maybe I’ll prefer to meet you indoors the first time since outdoor meetings make long hugs risky. So I’ll wait somewhere quiet, nervous and excited at the same time. When you finally arrive, I might not even know what to say. I’ll hug you like a crazy madman. I’ve seen you in photos, on video, I’ve read your words, I’ve heard your voice, but seeing you standing there in front of me will be something else.

Maybe we won’t do anything special that day. Just hug and sit somewhere and talk. You’ll tell me how your life is going. I’ll listen quietly, watching your eyes, your hands, your smile. Maybe I’ll bring you something small, some chocolates or a rose. I know you like both and I will propose to you the way you want.

There will be days when we meet again. Not every day. Maybe just once in a while when it’s safe and when it makes sense. We’ll keep it simple. Maybe I’ll take you to a movie. I imagine us sitting in the corner seats of a small cinema, watching something funny or romantic, holding hands and knowing you’re next to me will be enough.

Other times, we might go somewhere quiet. Maybe a beach, maybe a park. We’ll sit on the sand or grass, talk about life, maybe about how things are complicated. Maybe we’ll cry a little, maybe we’ll laugh. But the way I see it, even if we can’t share a life, we can share time. That means something.

I dream of traveling with you. Just once. A long bus ride or maybe a plane trip to somewhere peaceful. We’ll sit by the window, share snacks, listen to old songs. You’ll tell me stories from your childhood, and I’ll tell you mine. We’ll stop at dhabas along the way, drink coffee, and take photos near fields and hills.

Maybe one day we’ll go camping. Far outside the city. No buildings, no crowds, no noise. Just trees, stars, and us. We’ll light a small fire, sit wrapped in a shawl or blanket, and talk all night. Maybe I’ll hug you for a long time just to tell you silently how much you mean to me.

And I dream of the little things too. Waiting for you when you’re stressed. Giving you a handmade gift on your birthday. Watching you laugh over something silly I said. Sitting in silence when words run out but hearts still speak. Watching a match together, you lying in my lap, half asleep. Going on long walks in the rain without umbrellas. Buying you flowers from a roadside stall.

I dream of having long conversations at night over the phone after we meet. You’ll be back in your room. I’ll be home. But our minds will still be with each other. You’ll ask me if I reached safely. I’ll ask if you ate anything. We’ll talk about our moment again and again. And when you feel low, I’ll remind you how soft the wind felt, how warm my hug was, how much I love you.

I know we can’t think of that. I know this world wouldn’t allow it. And I don’t blame anyone. We come from different places. But love is not always about the future. Sometimes it’s just about the present.

You often say you’d love me unconditionally even if we can’t. I carry those words with me. They are enough.

So here’s the dream I want to live with you: A few nights. A lot of hugs. Some rainy walks. A shared movie. A simple meal. A small trip. No one needs to know. No one needs to understand.

Just us. Just time.

And a love that may never have a name but still means everything.