The Reunion That Left Me Speechless After 6 Months

Posted Saturday at 12:30 PM4 days

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“Distance is not for the fearful, it is for the bold. It’s for those who are willing to spend a lot of time alone in exchange for a little time with the one they love.” — Meghan Daum

Six months. That’s how long it took for me and my partner to meet again. Half a year of waiting, of holding our love through calls, texts, and stolen moments across a screen. It had been a tiring year filled with expectations, burnout, overthinking, and constant change. And yet, through all of it, the one thing that kept us sane was each other.

The anticipation was high. I wondered endlessly- “How would it feel to touch him again?” “Would it be the same?” “Would it be different?” My mind played out a thousand scenarios. The excitement was electric, buzzing in my body like static. And then, finally, I saw him.

But it wasn’t electric anymore. It was calm. Like coming home.

His hands had the same warmth they always carried, but his presence felt even brighter somehow. Like time and distance hadn’t taken anything away, only deepened what was already there. And what struck me most was everything I could never capture on a call—his body language, the way he moved, the rhythm of his mannerisms, the little smiles that flickered across his face, the warmth of his skin, even his scent. These things don’t translate through a screen. They belong to real life. And I drank them in, every detail.

All the love we had quietly stored away for months came flooding out in those days together, a kind of overflow. We knew we would eventually have to part again because life, because distance, but those days were gifts, ones we held tightly to keep us going.

We fed each other. We woke up at 4 a.m. just to cuddle. We watched sunsets side by side and walked hand in hand through streets that suddenly felt magical simply because we were together. It was peaceful.

It’s human tendency to cherish the things you have less of. But in that time, we promised ourselves that even after we close the distance, we would never take each other for granted. We planned in advance—not just the places we wanted to go or the food we wanted to try, but also small rituals that gave our time together shape. We wrote questions to ask each other in person, ones we had saved for months. We even had a “fake wedding,” exchanging vows that ended up feeling far too real.

And of course, we didn’t follow every plan. But that wasn’t the point. The point was the intention, the thoughtfulness, the care. The more time we spent together, the more we wanted to. The more we realized that for us, the deepest love language wasn’t grand gestures, but it was quiet presence. Simply being there, fully.

I had always thought of myself as someone who wasn’t into hugs or too much touch. But it turns out I was wrong. I just hadn’t found the person I could fully trust. When I was with him, I couldn’t stop. Touching, holding, curling into him. I felt complete in his arms— cliché, maybe, but true.

And when we finally had to part, it hurt. Of course it did. It’s easy to get caught up in “how long until we’re together again” or “how to handle the next goodbye.” Instead, we focused on the moments we were sharing—walking, talking, laughing, and it made everything feel lighter and more joyful. The days we shared weren’t just memories, they were reminders. Reminders that the wait is worth it. That presence is love. That sometimes the most ordinary things like feeding each other, walking side by side, laughing at nothing are actually the most extraordinary.

Because in long-distance love, you learn something profound: love isn’t measured by miles or months. It’s measured by the way your heart comes home, every time.

-Anushka & Vishnu