[ #6 Blog Story ] The Geometry of Us

 

They say every cell in the human body is replaced every seven years. If that’s true, then the man standing across from me in this crowded place isn’t the same person I met ten years ago. 

In many ways, he’s a stranger now, made of different experiences, different stories, a life that no longer includes me. And yet, when he turns and our eyes meet, ten years of silence disappear all at once. He doesn’t feel like a stranger at all. He feels like a memory that has finally stepped out of hiding and learned how to breathe again.

Back then, we were like two parallel lines, always moving in the same direction, but never crossing. Ten years ago, he was only a distant presence, someone I quietly admired from afar, never brave enough to speak to. 

Today, that long, frozen silence melts into the warmth of a shared cup of coffee between us. There’s no awkwardness, no need to force conversation. The stories flow easily, as if time itself is gently returning all the words we never got to say. This moment doesn’t feel like reopening an empty past, it feels like the beginning of something softer and new. The person I once only dared to look at from a distance is now sitting right in front of me, laughing with me, talking with me, reconnecting a bond that time once placed on pause.

pic : AI

I ask nothing more from the stars. Seeing him again is already enough to heal the quiet space that stretched between us for so many years. I leave whatever comes next to fate, without expectations or demands. All I hope is that this renewed connection brings light into his life, and that from this moment on, kindness continues to find its way to him. 

Sometimes, the most beautiful way to pray for someone isn’t by holding on or asking for more, it’s simply wishing them well, even when they’re finally standing right in front of you.

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