Dear Love,

I don’t know where you are right now—or if your path has already begun to feel like it’s quietly curving toward mine.

But I feel you.

Not in a physical sense, not in any visible sign.

But in the way my soul occasionally stirs… like it remembers something I haven’t quite lived yet.

There are moments I imagine your presence—not just how you look or speak, but how you make me feel.

Calm. Safe. Understood in the way only souls can understand each other.

You don’t complete me—you reflect me.

And I sense that when we meet, there will be no need for certainty, just a quiet knowing:

It’s you.

I don’t need grand promises or perfect words.

I don’t want a love that simply fits into a timeline or expectation.

I want the kind of love that remembers. That returns.

The kind of love that knows this isn’t the first time we’ve met—but maybe, finally, the time we get it right.

I know you’ll see me—not just for what’s on the surface, but for what lives deep beneath it.

You’ll give not to impress, but because you feel what matters.

You’ll understand my silence as much as my speech.

You’ll carry your strength quietly and your sentiment deeply—just like I do.

I know in your own way, you’ve been waiting too.

Perhaps trying to forget, trying to move forward, not knowing exactly what—or who—you were missing.

But soon, we’ll remember.

Until then, I’m not waiting.

I’m becoming.

I’m living a soft, full life. I’m surrounding myself with peace, beauty, and truth.

I’m loving deeply—even now—by living in alignment with the woman I’m meant to be when I meet you.

You don’t need to be perfect.

You just need to be real.

Present. Open. Willing to grow, to feel, to love without fear.

Because when we meet again in this lifetime,

I want us to choose each other not from longing…

But from knowing.

Knowing that our souls once made a promise.

Knowing that we’re ready now—to keep it.

With all my heart,

Seraphine Duong