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To the future,
Do you remember how we used to talk? About love, like it was a map to be followed. About people like destinations. About ‘The One’, like a GPS signal, we were waiting to catch. We kept describing the kind of person we were looking for; how they’d talk, laugh, dream, love chai or hate Chinese cuisine. But little did we know that life was scripting something far more poetic than our lists and way beyond the filters we swiped through. It’s because what we were looking for was quietly becoming what we were meant to find in each other.
We were searching outside when love was writing its verse within us. And just like that, unexpected, unplanned and unapologetically real, we stumbled into something not just good for us, but the best for us. Something softer, deeper, familiar, like a long-lost song you suddenly remember the lyrics to.
We didn’t check boxes. We checked pulses and hearts.
And in a world that loves to rush, we chose to stay.
I wasn’t looking for perfect,
I was hoping for kindness.
A soul who sees the mess,
And still chooses to find.
I’m in it, with open arms,
As if my chaos was calm.
As if love was meant to bloom,
Not in plans, but in palms.
I remember hoping for love that wouldn’t need too much explaining. The kind where silences aren’t empty. Where laughter feels like home. Where I don’t have to pretend to be interesting because just being present is enough, and I found that, not in the fantasy I once imagined, but in the reality we grew into.
Somewhere between midnight conversations, long walks and shared chai, between missed calls and surprise visits, we stopped looking because we had arrived.
And here’s what I believe now:
“The truest love isn’t something you chase down, but it’s what meets you when you’ve finally stopped running from yourself.”
So, to the future us, may you always remember that we weren’t just lucky; we were ready, and, more importantly, we were more accepting and embracing.
To self-love, to us, to Gratitude and to everything we never saw coming, thank you for happening.
Bad news is good business. We never bought in.
Every morning, financial news follows the same script. Headlines panic, coverage catastrophises, and somewhere inside the noise is the story that actually matters — the one that tells you where the opportunity sits, not just where the fear is pointing.
Most sources have stopped looking. The alarm is easier to sell.
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