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Loving her from far away feels like living between two worlds — the deep sea and the open air.


When we're apart, it’s as if I’m underwater. Most days, I move through life like a freediver sinking into the blue: focused, disciplined, and holding my breath. Down there, everything is muted — sound, colour, even emotion. The world feels slowed, heavy with pressure. I remind myself that I’m diving for a reason: to gather the pearls and treasures that will one day shape the life I want to share with her. That purpose keeps me steady. It keeps me swimming.


But the deeper I go, the more I must focus. In the depths, there’s no space for distraction or hesitation. Every second is borrowed air. If I lose focus, even for a moment, the weight of distance presses harder against my chest. That’s the risk of loving someone far away — one lapse, and it can feel like drowning.


Yet I keep diving because she is the surface.


Seeing her in real life again is like breaking through the water after a long, breathless descent. The instant I’m with her — hearing her laugh, feeling her presence, watching her exist in the same air as me — it’s as though oxygen floods back into my lungs. The world regains its colour, its warmth, its light. I remember what it feels like to be fully alive. On the surface with her, everything feels effortless. Natural. Right.


But I cannot stay on the surface forever. Life pulls me back into the depths, into the long swim of work, distance, and waiting. Still, each time I return to her, I rise stronger, carrying whatever I’ve gathered from the deep — more experience, more clarity, more resilience, more love to offer.


This is the rhythm of us: diving and surfacing. Holding my breath and then having it restored. In the silence below, I work for our future. At the surface, she reminds me why that future matters.


With her, I breathe. Without her, I dive — knowing that every descent is worth the moment I rise to her again.

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