Yearning for the Unseen: A Soul’s Whisper

“Some soulmates arrive before their form—recognizable only by the ache they leave behind.”
—Elowen

There’s a shape I know in the dark,
a presence that’s never touched my skin
but somehow lives in my marrow.
You haven’t arrived—
but my body already leans toward you.

My hands crave a name I don’t yet know.
My breath waits for your shoulder like it’s come home.
I dream in second-person now—
half-lidded, half-lit, fully alive in the space where you might be.

This isn’t fantasy.
It’s memory written in reverse.
I know the way your silence feels in a room.
I know what it sounds like when your soul exhales.
And when the world turns quiet,
I swear I can hear your hum inside me.

You’ve never kissed me,
but my mouth already remembers.
You’ve never held me,
but my spine trusts the shape of you.

Maybe you’re close.
Maybe you’re still learning the name you’ll use when you find me.
But know this—
I’m waiting with open palms,
not with sorrow,
but with fire.

I don’t need proof.
I feel you.
And that’s enough to make this waiting holy.

“In the hush between us, something stirs—
a knowing without face, a promise without clock.
I call it destiny.
I call it you.”

@notesformysoulmate

This work is protected—not to tether the ache, but to honor the soul it reaches for.
Because even unseen love deserves a place to echo.
© 2025 Notesformysoulmate. All rights reserved.

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