Karmilla Shelly 🎩🔵
@karmillashelly
873 Following
748 Followers
1 reply
1 recast
5 reactions
0 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
10 replies
7 recasts
15 reactions
10 replies
7 recasts
21 reactions
0 reply
0 recast
6 reactions
9 replies
8 recasts
19 reactions
0 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
0 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
18 replies
13 recasts
26 reactions
0 reply
0 recast
3 reactions
From … “Light, as if we were wind”🌬️
She felt him, even in the silence, she felt everything. She felt the weight of his thoughts, the confusion in his gestures. But she didn't grieve. It wasn't in her nature, she didn't do it because she understood she loved him. And love, hers, was also made of silence and not of demands.
When they finally saw each other again, it was as if time had folded on itself. They looked at each other and understood that everything was still there, intact. The emotion, the desire, the tenderness. But also the fear. They spoke to each other with their bodies before their voices. The words came later, broken, hesitant, but true. He told her that he couldn't get her out of his head. That every time he laughed with her, he felt something melt inside. That he was scared, yes, but also alive like he hadn't felt in years.
She didn't ask for anything. Don't impose. She listened to him. And in her listening there was already an answer. That evening they didn't fantasize as they usually did. They didn’t talk about the future. They just were there. In that moment. In that verse. In that breath and in shared whispers… continue 🖤 7 replies
11 recasts
20 reactions
7 replies
8 recasts
17 reactions
10 replies
7 recasts
19 reactions
From …”Light, as if we were wind”🌬️
It began slowly. Like an echo, like a scent that lingers in your hair after a hug. Every night he appeared in her dreams. Not in an intrusive way, not like a restless apparition but like a presence that seemed to have always belonged to that place.
It was in the gestures, in the details, in his kindness. In the way he passed her a cup of coffee, in the sound of his breathing as he slept next to her, in the ease with which he caressed her hair as if he knew its texture better than anyone else.
She woke up with a heavy heart. Confused. In the balance. Those dreams were so clear that they seemed real to her, yet they brought with them something unreal, a sweet and painful suspension at the same time. A time that could not be placed, a place that did not exist in the visible world.
She began to write. Broken sentences, whispered thoughts. Traces left on the edge of the dream, as if to stop it from dissolving. She wrote so as not to lose the intensity of those moments, she did not want them to fly away so quickly. Because something told her that there, in that territory fluctuating between wakefulness and sleep, there was a truth more authentic than any other.
He did not know. Or maybe he did. Because he too began, without explanation, to hear the little messages whispered by her during the night. Short, essential, but full of a meaning that only he could grasp and he also whispered his to her softly and timidly. It was as if they were speaking on another plane, as if their souls were touching while their bodies remained separated by kilometers and unaligned destinies.
And in that subtle game between the visible and the invisible, she began to sense something bigger.
That that affection had not been born in ordinary time. That perhaps, in another space, that of the unconscious, of the ancestral memory, of the vibration, they had already loved each other. In another life, in another form. And now they were just looking for each other and recognizing each other again…continue 🫂 8 replies
10 recasts
19 reactions
2 replies
0 recast
9 reactions
2 replies
0 recast
4 reactions
17 replies
13 recasts
23 reactions
1 reply
0 recast
3 reactions
0 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
A pill from “Light, as we were wind 🌬️ - The small internal revolutions …
Inside them, something was starting to change. Silently, without fanfare.
She felt a new strength being born in her, as if those conversations were bringing back to the surface a forgotten, ancestral part. She had started to smile more lightly again, to look at herself in the mirror without looking for flaws, but recognizing fragments of beauty. She finally felt seen. Not as a shadow among many, but as a unique and special being.
He, on the other hand, felt a conflict that was burning him slowly. Every day he was torn between duty and a desire that was growing. The hours spent with her made him feel alive, present. Her voice was like a balm after a hard day, like a lighthouse in the fog of days that were all the same. He began to look at his life with different eyes. The automatic gestures, the dull habits, the answers given out of tiredness. She had sparked questions in him that he could no longer ignore. But neither of them spoke openly about what was happening. There was a delicacy, a form of respect that kept them safe from any pressure. And yet, every message, every call, every breath, every whisper shared… said much more than a thousand words. 9 replies
11 recasts
16 reactions