After five consecutive events, when exhaustion should have claimed me, it is still my heart that rushes home—yearning not for rest, but for the quiet miracle of her presence. In her arms, fatigue dissolves into meaning; from her, I relearn joy in its most unguarded forms, absorbing forgotten slangs, laughing through her spontaneous tutorials that turn thought into rhythm and chaos into music. I wait, willingly and endlessly, for the surprises she chooses not to announce—small, sacred revelations