NAMELESS LOVE

The stars multiplied above you, each one a pinprick of light in the vast, unknowable canvas of the cosmos. Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, you recalled a line from Buddhist philosophy: "Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened."

Perhaps that was what this love was—a flame that illuminated not just your lives but the lives you would touch together. The thought filled you with a sense of purpose, as though you were stepping into a story that had been written long before you were born.

"You know," she said, breaking the silence, "sometimes I wonder if we've lived this life before. If we've met like this, in another time, another world."

Her words stirred something deep within you, an echo of the Hindu belief in samsara, the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. "Maybe we have," you mused. "Or maybe... maybe this is the life where we finally get it right."

She laughed, a sound as light as the wind rustling through the grass. "And what does 'right' even mean?"

You turned to her, the moonlight casting her face in a silvery glow. "I think it means living with intention. Loving with intention. Not being afraid to let the world see you for who you are, even if it's messy, even if it's imperfect."

Her eyes softened, and for a moment, she looked at you as though you were something rare, something precious. "You make it sound so simple."

"It's not," you admitted. "But maybe that's the point. Maybe the struggle is part of what makes it beautiful."