in the air between (a love letter)

It wasn’t the summit that took my breath,

but the spaces in between—

footsteps on stone,

words unsaid but heard,

a hand steadying me when the wind threatened to pull me back.

The climb was mine,

each step carved from pain and purpose,

but you—

you walked beside me,

quiet as the mountain,

present as the sky.

In the thin air, where stories unfold without words,

your eyes met mine—

a glance, a pause,

and suddenly the world was wider than the path ahead.

Two journeys converging,

like rivers weaving through ancient rock,

finding strength not in the summit,

but in the steady rise of something new.

You stood still when I faltered,

offered no promises,

just presence.

And somehow, that was enough.