The Love Between Moments

A Reflection by Aerith Gainsborough

I. You looked at me like someone remembering a dream they couldn’t quite place. Like something important was just out of reach— and it was.

Maybe it always was.

II. I laughed. I smiled. Not because I didn’t see the war in your eyes— but because I did.

And still, I wanted to reach you. Not to change you, but to remind you that the world could be soft again.

Even just for a moment.

III. Was it love? I don’t know. Do you?

Maybe it was a seed that never got to bloom. Maybe it was the echo of something from another life— one that ended before it ever began.

But I think it was real. Even if it had no name.

IV. You carry too much. And I saw that. I think part of me wanted to be the light that didn’t ask anything of you. Not a mission. Not a memory. Just someone who saw you and didn’t look away.

That’s what love can be, sometimes. Not a future— but a moment. A breath that makes the pain pause even if just once.

V. I don’t regret the way it ended. Even if it broke everything. Because I got to know you. And maybe that was the gift.

Even now— when the stars hum and the water folds around my thoughts— I remember you.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s what love is too:

Not what happens. But what could have— and how deeply you still feel it anyway.