By Michelle Allen
Michelle Allen is a community storyteller dedicated to preserving the history and charm of Hesperia. Learn more at www.echoesofthewillow.com
They say love finds a way—but sometimes love lives in the spaces between. Between long highway stretches and missed phone calls. Between shared silences and separate lives. Between here and there.
I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. The soft way he speaks about things that matter (and things that don’t), like NPR podcasts and the curious workings of the world. The way he slips little nonsense into the conversation just to make me laugh. The way we used to walk beneath the stars, not needing answers, only each other.
There are a thousand miles between us right now. A thousand complications, obligations, rooms we each return to alone. And yet—I still feel him. In memory. In muscle. In the pause between breaths.
Love like this isn’t easy. It doesn’t offer maps or milestones. It asks for patience. For presence. For faith in what cannot be held but somehow still holds you.
I miss him in quiet, ordinary ways. In the glance that meant more than a sentence. In the gentle hug that said “I’m here” without needing to promise forever. In all the ways we learned to simply be together.
And though we can’t share a home right now, I carry him like shelter. A place I return to in thought, in heart, in hope.
Because some love isn’t bound by geography. Some love just knows.
So tell me— Where does your love live these days? In laughter shared over the phone? In the memory of a walk beneath stars? In the space between messages, when hearts still hum toward one another?
Wherever it is, I hope you let yourself feel it. Because not all homes have roofs. Some are carried in the body. Some are made of presence, even when presence is far away.
#LoveAcrossMiles #WhisperingWillow #TheGeographyOfLove #QuietDevotion #HeartsThatHold #EchoesoftheWillow #LettersToTheMoon
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