The Pen Has Yet to Arrive, for the Heart Has Not Reached Its Destination

A love story has been stirring in my heart for a long time.

The love I want to write is sparks flying when souls collide, and the burning passion of two people choosing each other. It's a deep, quiet devotion that lasts until death, and a love-hate relationship that burns to the bitter end. It's also the kind of love that fades away without a clear reason, vanishing silently into the wind before it can ever begin...

But I've kept revising and deleting, unable to put pen to paper.

Perhaps it's because everything I understand about love still comes from books, films, and other people's stories. Like a traveler standing outside the realm of love, I can only try to describe its climate and landscape based on the distant views I've glimpsed.

I'm always wondering: How does love begin? How does it grow day by day, or fade away one day at a time? I know there are a thousand answers, but which one is the real thing?

Love is so hard to grasp. Unlike family, it doesn't come with blood ties as a natural bond. Nor is it like friendship, with its comfortable distance. Love demands the utmost courage: to share all of each other's lives, even to entangle both families and entire clans.

So I've decided to wait.

I'll wait until one day, when I understand it more deeply, whether through personal experience or through longer reflection and insight.

Then I'll come back and write their story in full. Perhaps then the love on the page will have the weight of a living thing.

Theme: Love is not possession or control, but acceptance and growing together