When he told me he was coming back to Bali in November, I counted the days without shame. Distance
had taught me patience, but hope had given that patience a heartbeat.
The night before his arrival, sleep refused to come. I imagined his arms, his familiar scent, the way his
smile made the world feel softer. When November 1 finally arrived, time seemed to slow down just to
test me.
I waited for him at the hotel lobby, pacing, pretending to look calm while my heart raced. Then I heard
the sound of suitcases hitting the floor. I turned—and there he was, running toward me.
He hugged me tightly, kissed me without hesitation, his eyes full of emotion. After two months apart,
we were finally together again. In that moment, the distance we had endured felt unreal, as if it had
only existed to prove how strong we were.