An untold love story
There are times in life when things happen gently and without notice, but they change our hearts forever. We may only meet someone once, but that brief meeting might spark something in us that is unforgettable, distinctive and forever. Love doesn't always follow rules or schedules. It doesn't ask for permission, and it doesn't wait for the right time. It happens without warning, most of the time. Although I wrote this as if it were my own story, it isn't. But definitely it belongs to someone in this world, maybe someone I'll never meet.
I still remember the day I met him in the college as a random person with a lovely smile. His smile was soft, and it was strong enough to make the world go quiet. I didn't know even his name, but something inside me said, "This is love," after just one look. At first, I told myself it was just an affection, a transient love. But as days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, I realized the truth: it was pure love, and I had become drawn to being with him without even knowing it.
Every little detail about him captured me. I was fascinated by every tiny thing about him. The way his fingers went through his silky hair without regard. His sparkling eyes gleamed every time he laughed. The way he walked with such ease and the warmth that seemed to come from him. These were not merely things to watch; they became the beats of my own heart. Every day, without fail, I fell in love with him again and again, as if love had chosen me to be its mute witness.
The painful beauty of my love is that he doesn't know about it. Nobody will ever tell him. No one has ever mentioned about the poems I secretly wrote for him, the tears I shed in the silence of the night or the times I tried to see him for the past year. Everything may have looked like nothing happened outside, but inside, everything was very different. I never said a word, but my heart always had a story to tell. That first day is still quite distinct in my mind, even after all this time.
It may sound strange, but my only hope is that fate will keep two people from ever meeting if they are not meant to be together. Because it is the meeting that hurts, and words alone can't make it better. I know that I would do anything to recapture that moment and that smile, though.
Love is not always about possession, nor about happy endings. Sometimes love is about the beauty of feeling, the purity of silence, and the strength it gives us to continue even when it is unseen. Though my story may remain unspoken, it is real. For in every poem, every tear, and every memory, his presence lives within me. And maybe that is enough for me.
