The Dream work of a small Dreamer

 

The Dream Work

For the past few months, I have been working on a novel—an ambitious journey that both excites and challenges me. Writing in English is no easy task, especially when every word must carry the weight of the emotions I wish to convey. A story is only as powerful as the connection it creates with its readers, and my greatest hope is that The Love Notes will do just that. I have carefully crafted the plot to immerse the reader so deeply that they feel as though they are living the story themselves, experiencing each moment as if it were their own. Though the process has been demanding, I believe in the power of storytelling, and I trust that, through my words, the essence of this novel will reach the hearts of those who read it.

“The Love Notes” is a collection of thoughts, emotions, and moments that have shaped my journey in ways I never expected. It is a deeply personal reflection of experiences, silent realizations, and unspoken feelings that often go unnoticed in the rush of life. Every page carries a piece of my heart, capturing the essence of something profound yet beautifully subtle. This book is not just about words; it is about the spaces between them, the quiet pauses, and the emotions that linger long after the sentences end. It is a story waiting to unfold, a journey that reveals itself one note at a time.

There are emotions in life that words often fail to capture. Feelings so deep, so profound, that no language can truly do them justice. Sometimes, they exist in the quiet spaces between sentences, in the gentle pauses of a conversation, in the way a heartbeat quickens at the mere thought of a certain presence.

For me, this emotion is not just a passing thought; it is an ever-present melody that plays in the background of my existence. It is a song that I never consciously wrote but one that my heart composed on its own. A song of admiration, longing, and an unexplainable connection that transcends the limitations of speech. I have often tried to silence it, to convince myself that it is just a fleeting illusion. Yet, no matter how much I try to drown it out, it finds its way back, growing louder, stronger, more insistent—an unspoken truth that refuses to be ignored.

Perhaps this feeling is best described as a journey—one that began without warning. It did not come with an announcement, nor did it seek permission before taking residence in my soul. It arrived like the first drops of rain after a long drought, unexpected yet so incredibly refreshing. At first, I did not recognize it for what it was. I mistook it for admiration, for a deep sense of respect, for a rare kind of friendship that one rarely finds in a lifetime. But as time passed, I realized it was something much more than that. It was a presence that made everything feel lighter, a voice that turned even the simplest words into poetry, a face that carried the warmth of a thousand suns.

And yet, despite its intensity, this feeling has remained trapped within me, like a bird that longs to fly but is afraid of the open sky. I have built walls around it, fearing that if I let it out, it might change everything. Change is terrifying, isn't it? The thought of losing something so precious, even before fully embracing it, is a fear that lingers in my mind every single day. Because what if the truth is too heavy to bear? What if the weight of my emotions becomes a burden instead of a blessing?

There are moments when I wish I could gather the courage to lay bare my soul, to say everything my heart aches to express. But then reality intervenes, whispering doubts and hesitations into my ears. What if things are not meant to be? What if this feeling is mine to carry alone? What if the universe has already written a different story, and my role is merely to admire from a distance, never to be a part of the tale?

It is in these quiet, lonely hours that the ache becomes unbearable. When the world falls asleep, and I am left alone with my thoughts, the weight of unspoken emotions becomes almost too much to handle. I find myself revisiting old conversations, replaying shared moments in my mind like a favorite song on repeat. Every smile, every laugh, every fleeting glance is etched into my memory like a painting that refuses to fade. And yet, I wonder—does the other person see the same colors that I do? Do they hear the same melody in the silence?. I do not know which category this particular presence belongs to, but I do know one thing: it has changed me in ways I cannot explain. It has taught me the beauty of patience, the depth of unspoken emotions, and the power of silent prayers.

One day, the time will be right. One day, I will find the courage to turn whispers into words, to let my heart speak without fear. And if that day never comes, if my feelings are meant to remain locked away forever, then I will cherish them in the quiet corners of my heart, knowing that some emotions are too precious to be tainted by reality. Because sometimes, love is not about possession. It is not about confessions or grand gestures. Sometimes, love is about simply existing in the presence of someone who makes the world a little brighter, even if they never truly know how much they mean. And maybe, just maybe, that is enough.

 with lots of love author 💓

                               joice joy