The Memory of Something I Never Lived ❣️

[Honey bunch]

The Memory of Something I Never Lived





How do you long for a touch
your hands have never known?

For a presence your life has never held,
yet somehow, your heart has already made room for.

Maybe some kinds of longing begin
long before reality gives them a place to exist.

---

There is an emptiness in my palm
that feels strangely shaped like her hand.

A silence beside me
that somehow knows the weight of her presence.

Some nights,
I close my eyes and wonder
whether longing has a scent—

because something in the air
keeps reminding me of someone
I have never breathed beside.

Her voice reaches me
from somewhere beyond the glass,
and when it disappears,
the room feels a little larger.

Perhaps that's what distance does—

it doesn't merely keep two people apart.

It teaches the heart
to invent the closeness
the body is denied.

So I find myself imagining
the smallest things:

the warmth left behind
after her hand slips from mine,

the quiet between two breaths
when there is no screen between us,

the trace of her fragrance
lingering in the air
after she has walked away.

Strange, isn't it?

My hands have no memory of her,
yet they know what they are missing.

My skin has never known her touch,
yet somewhere beneath it,
something waits.

And perhaps this is the most beautiful cruelty of it—

I have no memory of her
that my body can keep.

Yet somehow,
her absence feels remembered.

Maybe some people enter our lives
without ever physically entering them.

They slip quietly beneath the skin
through words, through silences,
through nights spent staring at a little light—

until one day
you realize you are missing
a life you have never lived.

And I wonder…

when will this invisible distance
finally become a place I can cross?

When will the person
my heart has been reaching for
become someone my hands can finally find?

Until then,
I suppose I will keep carrying
this impossible little ache—

the memory of a touch
my body has never known,

the fragrance of a presence
I have never breathed,

and a longing
for someone who has never been here,

yet somehow
feels impossible
to be without.

---

Maybe that's the strange thing about longing—

the heart can remember
what the body has never lived.





​

 

[cheetra]

It definitely does, thank you so much love for writing this..
Can't explain but this expresses a long held wish i can never fulfill...

 

[Honey bunch]

It definitely does, thank you so much love for writing this..
Can't explain but this expresses a long held wish i can never fulfill...

Thank you so much @cheetra
Maybe that's why I wrote it this way… some longings are too deep to explain in ordinary words. They may never become part of our reality, but that doesn't make what we feel any less real. Sometimes, giving that unfulfilled wish a few words is the closest we get to holding it.​

 

[Hangova]

the quiet between two breaths
when there is no screen between us

the heart can remember
what the body has never lived.

Both these lines are fascinating
So much of longing and a wish hidden somewhere within

 

[Honey bunch]

Both these lines are fascinating
So much of longing and a wish hidden somewhere within

Yeah… I think that's what makes those lines feel so close to the heart. Sometimes a wish can stay hidden in us for a long time, even when we know we may never get to live it.​

 

[Captain Ching]

The Memory of Something I Never Lived





How do you long for a touch
your hands have never known?

For a presence your life has never held,
yet somehow, your heart has already made room for.

Maybe some kinds of longing begin
long before reality gives them a place to exist.

---

There is an emptiness in my palm
that feels strangely shaped like her hand.

A silence beside me
that somehow knows the weight of her presence.

Some nights,
I close my eyes and wonder
whether longing has a scent—

because something in the air
keeps reminding me of someone
I have never breathed beside.

Her voice reaches me
from somewhere beyond the glass,
and when it disappears,
the room feels a little larger.

Perhaps that's what distance does—

it doesn't merely keep two people apart.

It teaches the heart
to invent the closeness
the body is denied.

So I find myself imagining
the smallest things:

the warmth left behind
after her hand slips from mine,

the quiet between two breaths
when there is no screen between us,

the trace of her fragrance
lingering in the air
after she has walked away.

Strange, isn't it?

My hands have no memory of her,
yet they know what they are missing.

My skin has never known her touch,
yet somewhere beneath it,
something waits.

And perhaps this is the most beautiful cruelty of it—

I have no memory of her
that my body can keep.

Yet somehow,
her absence feels remembered.

Maybe some people enter our lives
without ever physically entering them.

They slip quietly beneath the skin
through words, through silences,
through nights spent staring at a little light—

until one day
you realize you are missing
a life you have never lived.

And I wonder…

when will this invisible distance
finally become a place I can cross?

When will the person
my heart has been reaching for
become someone my hands can finally find?

Until then,
I suppose I will keep carrying
this impossible little ache—

the memory of a touch
my body has never known,

the fragrance of a presence
I have never breathed,

and a longing
for someone who has never been here,

yet somehow
feels impossible
to be without.

---

Maybe that's the strange thing about longing—

the heart can remember
what the body has never lived.





View attachment 433195​

These aren't just words they are the voice of a heartbeat and an unfulfilled longing. Sometimes the soul recognizes someone before the body does—perhaps that is why, despite the distance they feel so close It may seem impossible yet this is perhaps the purest form of love My prayer is that this invisible distance soon transforms into a gap you can bridge...

 

[Honey bunch]

These aren't just words they are the voice of a heartbeat and an unfulfilled longing. Sometimes the soul recognizes someone before the body does—perhaps that is why, despite the distance they feel so close It may seem impossible yet this is perhaps the purest form of love My prayer is that this invisible distance soon transforms into a gap you can bridge...

That's beautifully said. Maybe some connections are felt before we ever get to experience them… and that's what makes the longing so hard to put into words.​

 

[Flame.]

Heart never losses the touch even memory fades but if someone or something touched our heart it will be preserved there forever well written

 

[Captain Ching]

That's beautifully said. Maybe some connections are felt before we ever get to experience them… and that's what makes the longing so hard to put into words.​

You completed that unfinished thought so beautifully... perhaps that is precisely why that longing is as exquisite as it is painful.

 

[Honey bunch]

Heart never losses the touch even memory fades but if someone or something touched our heart it will be preserved there forever well written

Exactly… memories may fade with time, but the feelings someone leaves in our heart don’t fade that easily. Some people may be far away or no longer part of our lives, but what they meant to us stays forever.​

 

[Honey bunch]

You completed that unfinished thought so beautifully... perhaps that is precisely why that longing is as exquisite as it is painful.

Perhaps that’s the bittersweet beauty of longing… it hurts because something we felt so deeply never got the chance to become real.

Sometimes, what remains unfinished stays in our heart the longest.
​

 

[Captain Ching]

Perhaps that’s the bittersweet beauty of longing… it hurts because something we felt so deeply never got the chance to become real.

Sometimes, what remains unfinished stays in our heart the longest.
​

Unfinished stories always hold a unique kind of perfection because they never got ruined by reality They just stay frozen as pure emotions...

 

[Honey bunch]

Unfinished stories always hold a unique kind of perfection because they never got ruined by reality They just stay frozen as pure emotions...

True

 

[Dark tristan]

The Memory of Something I Never Lived





How do you long for a touch
your hands have never known?

For a presence your life has never held,
yet somehow, your heart has already made room for.

Maybe some kinds of longing begin
long before reality gives them a place to exist.

---

There is an emptiness in my palm
that feels strangely shaped like her hand.

A silence beside me
that somehow knows the weight of her presence.

Some nights,
I close my eyes and wonder
whether longing has a scent—

because something in the air
keeps reminding me of someone
I have never breathed beside.

Her voice reaches me
from somewhere beyond the glass,
and when it disappears,
the room feels a little larger.

Perhaps that's what distance does—

it doesn't merely keep two people apart.

It teaches the heart
to invent the closeness
the body is denied.

So I find myself imagining
the smallest things:

the warmth left behind
after her hand slips from mine,

the quiet between two breaths
when there is no screen between us,

the trace of her fragrance
lingering in the air
after she has walked away.

Strange, isn't it?

My hands have no memory of her,
yet they know what they are missing.

My skin has never known her touch,
yet somewhere beneath it,
something waits.

And perhaps this is the most beautiful cruelty of it—

I have no memory of her
that my body can keep.

Yet somehow,
her absence feels remembered.

Maybe some people enter our lives
without ever physically entering them.

They slip quietly beneath the skin
through words, through silences,
through nights spent staring at a little light—

until one day
you realize you are missing
a life you have never lived.

And I wonder…

when will this invisible distance
finally become a place I can cross?

When will the person
my heart has been reaching for
become someone my hands can finally find?

Until then,
I suppose I will keep carrying
this impossible little ache—

the memory of a touch
my body has never known,

the fragrance of a presence
I have never breathed,

and a longing
for someone who has never been here,

yet somehow
feels impossible
to be without.

---

Maybe that's the strange thing about longing—

the heart can remember
what the body has never lived.





View attachment 433195​

Wowww back with bang again senior

 

[Honey bunch]

Wowww back with bang again senior

Thank You

 

[Dark tristan]

Thank You

Kadasi vera ennaku tamil kavithai solala

 

[Honey bunch]

Kadasi vera ennaku tamil kavithai solala

I will try Let me see what comes to mind​

 

[Dark tristan]

I will try Let me see what comes to mind​

Haha iam waiting heheh

 

[Honey bunch]

Haha iam waiting heheh

Sure I will see what I can come up with​

 

[Dark tristan]

Sure I will see what I can come up with​

Suree no issues good night senior