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membru din 21 martie 2023

Can your heart be mine in search

 


                             ˢᵉᵈᵘᶜᵗʳᵉˢˢ
                       دل دے ہے مجھے (ʻD̲i̲l̲ d̲a̲y m̲u̲jh̲e̲ʼ)
                    ʻI promise—there is n̲o̲ u̲n̲i̲v̲e̲r̲s̲e̲ where you
                    arenʼt m̲i̲n̲e̲. I will f̲i̲n̲d̲ yo̲u̲ i̲n̲ e̲a̲c̲h̲ o̲n̲e̲, Amory.ʼ
                          Ȥɑժҽ Ɱҽɑժօաs♥͜͡ˑṢԶẸ1̣

             You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
             You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your
             days.⸺You shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
             But let there be spaces in your togetherness, and let the winds of
             the heavens dance between you.   ℒo̲v̲e̲ one another, but make
             not a bond of love: ⸺ℓet it rather be a moving sea between the
             shores of your souls. Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one
             cup. Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same
             loaf. Sing and dance together and be joyous, but ℓet each one of
             your be alone, even as the strings of the lute are alone though—
                   they quiver with the same music.

                 G̲i̲v̲e̲ yo̲u̲r̲ h̲e̲a̲r̲t̲s̲, b̲u̲t̲ n̲o̲t̲ i̲n̲t̲o̲ e̲a̲c̲h̲ o̲t̲h̲e̲r̲’s̲ k̲e̲e̲pi̲n̲g.
             For only the hand of ℒi̲f̲e̲ can contain your hearts. ⸺And stand
             together yet not too near together: —for the pillars of the temple
             stand apart⸺, ﹠ the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each
              other’s shadow. Kahlil Gibran (ܟ݂ܠܝܠ ܔܒܪܢ)¸ On ℒo̲v̲e̲﹠ℳa̲r̲r̲i̲a̲ge̲

             ˃ S̲e̲a̲po̲r̲t̲ D̲i̲s̲t̲r̲i̲c̲t̲¸ Boston⸺19:05 P.M.
             He had given her time to settle into this chaos—to find her r̲h̲yt̲h̲m̲
             a̲m̲o̲n̲g t̲h̲e̲ u̲n̲w̲r̲i̲t̲t̲e̲n̲ r̲u̲l̲e̲s̲ o̲f̲ h̲i̲s̲ w̲o̲r̲l̲d̲. —And yet, a trace of tension
             still lingered between them, a silence full of unspoken things.
              ʻYou have questions, but you donʼt ask them.ʼ
              ʻWould you answer if I did?ʼ
             Zade smiled, the corner of his mouth barely visible. He leaned his
             head back for a second, contemplating the ceiling, then shifted his
             gaze back to her. ʻDepends what the questions are.ʼ
             It was challenging, but not hostile. It was an invitation to go deeper,
             to break through the walls, just a little. And he knew that meant risk.
              ʻJillian doesnʼt like m̲e̲.ʼ It wasnʼt a question. It was an observation.
              ʻJillian doesnʼt like a̲n̲yo̲n̲e̲ she canʼt control.ʼ
              ʻWhat about you?ʼ
              ʻWhat about me?ʼ
              ʻAre you the kind of man who needs to be i̲n̲ c̲o̲n̲t̲r̲o̲l̲?ʼ
              ʻAmory,ʼ he began, each syllable carrying a weight of its own, ʻif I
             wanted control, I would tell you how to dress for tonight,—I would
             have told you what to say and what not to say—Iʼd tell you h̲o̲w̲ t̲o̲
             l̲o̲o̲k̲, h̲o̲w̲ t̲o̲ b̲r̲e̲a̲t̲h̲e̲, h̲o̲w̲ t̲o̲ m̲o̲l̲d̲ yo̲u̲r̲s̲e̲l̲f̲ perfectly to my decor. But
             I did not do it. Because I donʼt want to fit you into a scenario. I ℓet
             you walk into it as you are⸺—And this is much more d̲a̲n̲ge̲r̲o̲u̲s̲.ʼ


               S̲̣ԶE̲̣б¸ Ɗɾҽω:
             ʻHe went with her to New York for t̲w̲o̲ n̲i̲gh̲t̲s̲. Just the two of them,
             away from any obligation. But nothing happened. Zade—the man
             who a̲l̲w̲a̲ys̲ t̲o̲o̲k̲ w̲h̲a̲t̲ h̲e̲ w̲a̲n̲t̲e̲d̲, who never waited for anything or
             anyone—spent two nights alone with this girl and did nothing.﹠If
             you saw him, honey... heʼs different⸺the way he talks about her.
             T̲h̲e̲ w̲a̲y h̲e̲ l̲o̲o̲k̲s̲ a̲t̲ h̲e̲r̲. He was never like that with F̲r̲a̲n̲c̲e̲s̲c̲a̲. With
             anybody else.  And when we were in M̲i̲a̲m̲i̲, she wouldnʼt talk to
             him because she found out about ℱrancesca. And somehow, I think
             she ended it. A̲n̲d̲ Z̲a̲d̲e̲? Even breaking up with Fran wasnʼt all that
             consuming. H̲e̲ w̲a̲l̲k̲e̲d̲ a̲w̲a̲y—like got up from the meeting and left.
                      And she met E̲d̲a̲n̲ too.ʼ

                          Rհօժҽ:
                       ʻW̲a̲i̲t̲... s̲h̲e̲ m̲e̲t̲ h̲i̲s̲ s̲o̲n̲?!ʼ
                       ℭopyright¸ᔑeɗʋctɾess
                          © 2025.



 
Boston¸ eight years ago ⸺ The night was crisp, the November air biting against the skin,; but neither of them seemed to care. The rooftop was theirs—had been for years now. It wasn’t just a place to escape; it was a sanctuary. A refuge from expectations, from the weight of their last names
Boston¸ eight years ago ⸺ The night was crisp, the November air biting against the skin,
from the inevitable futures that had been carved out for them long before they had any say; in it. Zade stood near the edge, one hand wrapped around a glass of scotch, the other resting on the cold steel railing. Below them, the city sprawled out in a sea of flickering lights, as
from the inevitable futures that had been carved out for them long before they had any say
alive at this hour as it was during the day. He barely noticed it. His mind was elsewhere, trapped; in the moment he’d been avoiding all day. Drew was lounging on one of the old deck chairs they had dragged up here years ago, his beer resting on his stomach.
alive at this hour as it was during the day. He barely noticed it. His mind was elsewhere, trapped
He had been watching Zade long enough to know something was off. His friend was usually; composed, his confidence a second skin, but tonight, there was an edge to him, something raw and unspoken lingering in the silence between them.
He had been watching Zade long enough to know something was off. His friend was usually
Zade exhaled...⸺, tilting his head back slightly before taking a sip of his drink. He didn’t answer; right away. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what to say—it was just that saying it would make it real.
Zade exhaled...⸺, tilting his head back slightly before taking a sip of his drink. He didn’t answer
Drew blinked. Whatever he had expected, it wasn’t that. He sat up a little, resting his arms; on his knees. As Zade gave a slow nod, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, let out a low whistle, running a hand through his hair. „Shit.”
Drew blinked. Whatever he had expected, it wasn’t that. He sat up a little, resting his arms
⸺ A beat of silence stretched between them. The wind picked up slightly, ruffling Zade’s coat,; but he barely felt it.
⸺ A beat of silence stretched between them. The wind picked up slightly, ruffling Zade’s coat,
Zade huffed a humorless laugh as his jaw tightened.
Zade huffed a humorless laugh as his jaw tightened.
⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺
⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺
Drew studied his friend—his expression unreadable.
Drew studied his friend—his expression unreadable.
⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺
⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺
He then let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand through his hair.
He then let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand through his hair.

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