Love, Unseen

I. The First Spark

It started the way many things do in this digital age—with a comment, under a post no one else seemed to notice.

Her username was Luna. No profile picture. No real name. Just a crescent moon emoji and a single-line bio:

“Dreaming in binary. Loving in silence.”

Ryan had replied to a post she made about the loneliness of 2 a.m. thoughts, simply writing, “I feel that too.”

She responded five minutes later:

"Same."

That one word did something he couldn't explain. It wasn’t poetic. It wasn’t profound. But it was real. And these days, real was rare.

II. Just Texts

They never video-called.

Never exchanged photos.

Not even voice notes.

It wasn’t because they were hiding. Luna said it best:

"When you take the visuals away, the soul speaks louder."

And somehow, Ryan understood.

Their conversations stretched from short late-night chats to hour-long text marathons that bled into sunrise. They spoke about music that reminded them of old homes. Books that made them cry. People who left without explanation. And dreams they’d only whispered to themselves before.

It wasn’t the kind of love you fell into. It was the kind you grew into—softly, like light pouring through curtains.

III. Real and Unreal

One night, as the wind howled outside his apartment window, Ryan typed:

"Do you ever wonder if we’re just pretending?"

There was a pause.

"Pretending what?"

"That this is real. That we are."

She responded slowly:

"Is a heartbeat real if no one hears it? Is a tear real if no one sees it?"

He stared at the screen, heart thudding. He didn’t know how to answer.

"I just want to know you’re real."

He typed that instead.

After a long pause, she replied:

"I’m as real as the ache you feel when I disappear for a day."

And damn, she was right.

IV. The Almost

They talked about meeting—once.

Just once.

Luna sent him the name of a coffee shop on a quiet corner in the city. She told him the day and the time. No pressure, no expectations.

He arrived ten minutes early. Nervous, sweaty palms, heart racing. He scanned every face walking in, trying to find something familiar in a sea of strangers.

He stayed for an hour.

Then two.

She didn’t come.

That evening, his phone buzzed with a message.

"I was there."

"I saw you."

"You looked beautiful. But I wasn’t ready."

His chest tightened. For a moment, disappointment burned. But then, strangely, peace settled in.

He typed:

"Next time?"

"One day," she wrote. "When my ghosts stop dragging me backwards."

V. Silence

And then—nothing.

Days passed. Then weeks.

No Luna.

No messages. No posts. Her account still existed, but she wasn’t there. Just a quiet moon hanging in the digital sky.

Ryan wanted to be angry.

He wanted to move on.

But each time he picked up his phone, he scrolled to their chat and reread their messages. Her words had stitched themselves into him.

He started drafting replies he never sent.

He dreamt of her voice—though he didn’t know what it sounded like.

VI. The Echo

Then, one night, weeks after he’d nearly given up, a notification blinked.

"Do you still wait for me?"

No name. No profile. Just the message.

He knew it was her.

No one else had ever written like that.

Ryan smiled, tears quietly pooling in his eyes.

He typed without thinking:

"Always."

VII. And That Was Enough

They didn’t talk every day after that.

Sometimes, weeks would pass.

But each message from her still lit something in him that no one else could touch. And though they'd never shared a face, never touched a hand, never whispered across pillows or strolled down streets together…

She remained the most intimate stranger he’d ever known.

Because sometimes, the deepest loves aren’t forged in the flesh.

They’re formed in spaces unseen—between the words we type and the hearts that read them.

Author’s Note:

Sometimes, the strongest connections are felt—not seen. This story is for anyone who has ever loved in silence, from behind a screen, yet with all their heart.