When Hearts Remember What Distance Cannot Erase
By Lokanath Mishra
( A letter from a wife to her husband)
My Beloved,
When I close my eyes in the quiet of the night, I don’t see walls or distances—I see you.
Somehow, even miles away, my breath still knows its way back to your heartbeat.
I want you to know something today, not as a wife speaking to her husband, but as a soul speaking to the soul it chose long before this lifetime. You are not merely my companion in this world; you are the prayer that answers my silence, the lamp that stays lit when my mind wanders into darkness.
Every relationship the world speaks of is built on words, duties, and expectations. But ours—ours feels written by something higher. When I cook, I feel your presence blessing my hands. When I pray, your name rises naturally with the incense. When I smile without reason, it is because my spirit remembers you.
The children try to be brave, but their eyes give them away. They search for you in small things—in the sound at the door, in every passing shadow, in their dreams before sleep. They speak less, laugh softer, and often sit quietly holding your memories close. At night, they ask when you will return, and I see how deeply their hearts miss the warmth of your presence. A home may function without a father for a while, but it never truly feels whole without him.
Sometimes life tests love, not to weaken it, but to reveal its strength. Like gold passing through fire, like faith deepening through surrender. Separation teaches what proximity cannot: the truth that love is not possession, it is recognition.
I don’t miss you as one misses a habit—I miss you as the river misses the ocean it came from.
You are the calm in my chaos, the patience in my storms, the reminder that marriage is not two people walking side by side, but two souls walking towards the same divine light. If God has trusted me with your heart, then I will guard it not with fear, but with devotion.
Know this, my love:
Wherever I am, my loyalty kneels only before you.
Whatever I become, carries your reflection.
And every tomorrow I dream of still begins and ends with us—hand in hand, guided by grace.
May our love remain not loud, but eternal.
Not perfect, but sacred.
Not fragile, but rooted in the divine.
Always yours—
in this life, and beyond. I