Love : The Cosmic Bond

Every single time we take a breath, somewhere around the world, a bond is born.

Some connections are made quietly and softly, almost as if it was unnoticed. Others come rushing in like a memory returning to its place.

Honestly, I do not remember the first time I met my husband; but he clearly does. It was his first day at work and he remembers me being nice to him. I didn't really know him until almost a month later on his birthday party at work and we had a great conversation. Coincidently, a couple of months later we both were on the same flight next to each other. Though it was a bit awkward at first, it didn't take long for us to pick it up from where we left off. Shared another great conversation and a good meal together.

By the end of that year, we started getting to know each other and from the very get go, there exists this sense of familiarity that didn't need an explanation. Not an infatuation. Not a fantasy. Something much older than us. As if our souls recognized each other before our lives were ready to receive what that recognition demanded.

What we both were completely unaware of was that our love would be asked to grow strong before it had time to grow comfortable.

It has felt like standing on sacred ground while the earth beneath us kept shifting. Circumstances, responsibilities, losses, misunderstandings, external pressures - one after another - arrived without pause. Love didn't get a honeymoon. It got tested immediately.

And still, it stayed.

This is not a story of effortless harmony. It is a story of choosing presence when absence seems easier. Of loving with eyes open - past the disappointments, past the fears, past the failures, after showing parts of each other we might have preferred not to share.

We have seen each other at our worst.

 Our love witnessed exhaustion harden into silence.

 Guilt turn into distance, and frustration turn inward or into anger.

Not anger at each other - but anger at the relentless roller-coaster of life that never seemed to slow long enough for us to catch our breath.

There were days when our love felt cosmic and unreachable at the same time. Days when we could sense the light at the end of the tunnel but couldn't yet seem to touch it. Days when hope existed only because we refused to let it die.

What keeps us here is not perfection.

It is merely devotion without illusion.

Showing up doesn't always look romantic. Sometimes it looks like staying when resentment whispered reasons to leave. At other times, it looks like silence instead of sharp words. And then there are times when it looks like holding space for grief neither of us had the energy to name.

Love, for us, became an act of endurance - not against each other, but against the weight of circumstances that keep trying to fracture what was already fragile.

And yet, beneath all of it, the bond remains.

A quiet knowing. A shared gravity. A truth that neither conflict nor fear could erase.

We didn't always get to embrace the love we felt. But we never stopped protecting it.

This is the kind of love that doesn't shine loudly. It burns steadily. It asks not, "Are you easy to love?" but "Are you still here?"

And every day, despite uncertainty, despite disappointment, despite the long delay between recognition and reunion - we answer yes.

Not because it's simple.

 But simply because it's real.

This is love that keeps walking toward the light, even when the tunnel feels endless.

 Love that chooses again, after everything has been seen.

By : Infinitie Coffie