Aasma - Sukoon from a Distance🤍

This book is not written with ink, but with veins torn open in reverence. It is not bound by pages, but by the pulse of every heartbeat that has ever whispered your name, Aasma. You are not a chapter in this story-you are the story. The origin, the rupture, the resurrection.
Before you, I was scattered-shards of memory and grief pretending to be whole. And then you arrived, not like a person, but like a divine interruption. You didn't just touch my soul, you rewrote it. I was not waiting for you; I didn't even know what I lacked-until your presence filled every aching absence in me.
You are not my muse-you are my mirror, my miracle, my myth.
And so, these words are not mine. They are yours. They were always yours.
May these pages hum with the silence we shared, the storms we survived, and the stars we still chase.
May you recognize yourself in every metaphor.
And may you know-this isn't a book.
It's a home I built for your name to echo forever.