The Distance Between Two Hearts

A True Story of a Pure Love That Remained Unfinished

It all started with a look.

The year was 2014.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

Life was simpler then, and my heart was open to the world.

That was the year I met her.

From the very first moment, something clicked.

It wasn't a loud explosion; it was a quiet realization.

A realization that my soul had finally found its mirror.

A Love That Was Pure (Saf aur Shafaf)

Our connection was different from what you see in the movies.

It wasn't built on grand gestures or expensive gifts.

It was built on late-night conversations and shared dreams.

We talked for hours about everything and nothing.

For three or four years, she was my world.

Our love was "Saf aur Shafaf"—pure and transparent.

There was no room for lies or games.

We were two young people, deeply in love, trying to navigate life.

But even then, we knew there was a mountain between us.

The Silent Wall of Distance

She was far away.

In a world where we can fly anywhere, we were still stuck.

The distance was not just about the miles on a map.

It was about the circumstances that kept us apart.

I couldn't go to her, and she couldn't come to me.

We lived through our screens, waiting for the day the gap would close.

Every night, I would look at the stars and wonder if she was looking at them too.

Distance is a slow poison for any relationship.

It tests your patience, your trust, and your strength.

We fought the distance for a long time.

We fought it with our words, our hopes, and our prayers.

2018: The Year the Dream Ended

For four years, we held on to each other.

From 2014 to 2018, our love grew stronger, or so I thought.

But time is a cruel thief.

In 2018, the news reached me like a sudden storm.

The news that she was getting married.

The dream we had built for four years collapsed in a single moment.

I remember sitting in silence, unable to breathe.

The girl I loved since 2014 was now going to belong to someone else.

There was no big fight.

There was no betrayal of the heart.

There was only the harsh reality of life and its choices.

The Pain of an Unfinished Chapter

We never got to say a proper goodbye.

There was no final meeting where we could hold hands one last time.

The story just... stopped.

It remained "Adhoori"—unfinished.

It’s been years since 2018, but the memory of that year still lingers.

I often ask myself why some stories are left without an ending.

Why does love happen if it’s meant to be lost to distance?

Maybe some people are meant to stay in our hearts, but not in our lives.

She is in her world now, and I am in mine.

The distance that once kept us apart is now a permanent ocean.

Life Goes On, But the Memory Stays

People say that you eventually move on.

And I did. I kept walking. I kept living.

But every now and then, I find myself back in 2014.

I find myself thinking about the pure love we shared.

A love that was never ruined by hate, only by fate.

Our story is a reminder that distance can win the battle, but it cannot erase the feeling.

To anyone reading this who is far from the one they love:

Don't take a single second for granted.

Because sometimes, "forever" ends sooner than you think.

Our story remains a beautiful, painful, unfinished chapter.

A chapter that started with a look and ended with a long, silent distance.

And even though it ended in 2018, a part of me is still there, waiting.

Waiting for a conclusion that will never come.

Author's Note:

This story is not a piece of fiction. These are the words of a heart that lived through every second of this journey from 2014 to 2018. It took me a long time to gather the courage to write this down.

Sometimes, we don't need a villain for a love story to end; sometimes, the distance and the timing are enough. I wrote this for everyone who has an "Adhoori Kahani" (unfinished story) hidden in their soul.

If you have ever loved someone you couldn't reach, know that you are not alone. Our stories might be unfinished, but the love we felt was real, and that is what matters in the end.