Vaishu writes

Dear Notes, Today I touched the sky with bare hands— With a basin, a towel, and all my love, I washed the sun off his feet, And the tired roads he walked before me. Each toe, a temple. Each heel, a hymn I hummed silently, As if loving him through skin Was a sacred kind of language only I spoke. Forty-five minutes turned to forever— And there I was, tucked on his shoulder, My room breathing softer than usual, As if the walls knew not to interrupt. The second time he stepped into this shrine of mine, He sat on my bed— Oh! How the cotton remembered Maniratnam’s frames, Where time pauses just to witness love unfurl Dear Notes, Today was more than love. It was cinema, It was surrender, It was us— Unwritten, unsaid, but deeply felt. — With ink from my heart.

After gym, the world was slow, But he appeared with that golden glow. Sleep still dancing in his eyes, Skin like dawn, where sunlight lies. I stood there, lost—my heart a flame, My soul igniting just from his name. My mind went blank, my lips went wide, My blush refused to run and hide. Teeth on show, and cheeks so red, Thoughts of him raced through my head. My mom just stared: "Why do you grin?" But how could I cage what lives within? His name—it’s magic. Just one sound, And butterflies all gather ‘round. No warning, just that lovely burn— My smile too stubborn to unlearn. His waking eyes—oh, heaven’s hue, Like morning skies dipped fresh in dew. I’ve seen no art, no painted light, That ever matched that quiet sight. So now, I laugh like love’s own fool, No calm, no cool, no practiced rule. Because just his name can light my days, And set my silence all ablaze.

Love on him—gently, like dawn meets the sky, Hug him like silence when the world passes by. Remind him he matters, he’s more than his pride, That even the strongest break quiet inside. Assure him, be still, hold his storms in your hand, Not to fix every crack, just to help him withstand Be patient—he’s growing, like you, in the dark, Chasing his light with a flickering spark. Pray for him softly, when words lose their way, Let your heart kneel for him at the end of the day. Cater to wounds he hides deep within, Love isn’t weakness—it's where you begin. He’s not a warrior without need for grace, He’s a soul in a world that moves at a pace. Just like you, he’s trying to breathe and believe, To heal from the past, to dream and to grieve. That 50/50—don’t let it feel small, It’s how two hearts rise and never let fall. Even if he could carry the weight of it all, Let him lean too—love builds when we crawl. So meet him halfway, with arms open wide, Not behind or ahead, but right by his s...