(Tone: soft, thoughtful, emotionally resonant)
(gentle pause)
There were lifetimes…
between us.
Not just years —
but entire seasons
of silence.
And then,
one day,
you stood before me again.
So close,
so real —
and I…
I couldn’t speak.
Not yet.
Because maybe…
just maybe,
my eyes needed
to finish
what my voice
never could.
I looked at you…
and kept looking.
Not to question —
but to remember.
To drink you in
like time owed.
And as I did,
something inside me waited —
waited for the ache to settle,
for the hunger to soften.
Only then
would the tongue
dare break
its long-held silence.
(beat)
When I finally spoke,
it wasn’t to explain.
It was just to hear you answer —
just to feel the warmth
of your voice
find mine again.
We shared regrets
in half-sentences,
but the forgiveness —
that came without words.
Because some silences
are not empty.
Some silences…
are full.
And when our silences met —
they didn’t echo.
They understood.
(soft smile)
Now,
we don’t need to speak.
We sit beside each other
in quiet.
You sip your tea.
I read a page.
Our hands touch
like old music
that needs no chorus.
This —
this is what love becomes.
Not the fire.
Not the flood.
But the stillness
that remains
when everything else
has passed.
(gentle close)
You and I —
no longer a story told.
Just a truth
felt.
Not in the saying…
but in the being.
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