I.
Love does not measure itself in gifts,
nor in the weight of gold or in the length of years.
Love measures itself in breaths withheld,
in nights surrendered,
in silence kept for the sake of another’s peace.
II.
A woman was ill, and her nights were restless.
And the healers said, “Her sleep flees because of the thunder of his breath.”
Then the man said within himself,
“Let her rest, and I will wrestle with the night.”
So she slept, and her body blossomed,
for his love had become her pillow.
III.
But as she rose in strength, he descended in health.
She asked, “Why do your eyes grow heavy?”
And he answered, “Because the earth asks much, yet it gives also.”
And she was content with his words,
not knowing that his secret was her strength.
IV
Over time, his shoulders bent beneath an invisible weight, his eyes grew dim with secret weariness. But he spoke nothing of it.
She wondered, at times, why his steps were heavy, why his voice trembled with exhaustion.
For what is love, if not the silence that bears another’s burden unseen?
V.
At last, she awoke to find him still and silent beside her.
Only then she understood:
the silence that healed her had been his final breath.
For true love does not say, “I give what I can spare.”
It says, “I give you even what I’m in need to keep.”
My sleep.
#TrueLove #LoveAndSacrifice #silence #rest #sleep