My beloved

 My beloved,

The world tells me that time will make it easier.
That the sharp edges of grief will smooth.
That one day, I will stop aching.

And maybe they are right about the ache.
It has changed shape—
softer, quieter, not as sharp.
But the love…
the love has not changed at all.

Because love is not bound to clocks or calendars.
It doesn’t fade with years.
It doesn’t weaken with distance.
Love like ours is eternal.

I still feel you when the stars come out.
I still sense you when the breeze brushes my cheek.
I still carry you in every step I take.

This is love that outlives time.
The kind of love that does not end—
not with death, not with distance, not with years.
The kind of love that waits for the day
when time itself no longer matters,
and we are together again.