A few months ago, I met this amazing woman. I remember that day very well. After all, how could I forget such an important day? It was the 7th of November, 2025, and at 05:37 P.M., she entered my world with grace. It was like watching one of my favorite airplanes land. She seemed quirky as she walked through the door and into the college space we were in. I could see that she was amused by herself when she sat down on a chair. Her presence brought color to an otherwise dull room. She had really pretty eyes. Her eyes were like Saturn twinkling in the night sky. Her eyes had a certain glow to them that I can’t quite explain in words. And whenever she opened her mouth to say something, I would pay attention to her voice. Nothing else but her voice mattered in that moment. She had such a sweet voice that I could listen to it for hours without getting bored. Over the course of a few days, we met here and there. I remember showing up for all 3 days of an event she volunteered at. I would wait just to hear her voice and see those eyes. She was worth the wait. I would have waited years for her if it meant that I could see her for just 5 minutes. And each time I saw her, I liked her even more.
We also talked online sometimes. She had a similar, weird sense of humor to mine. So she and I would send weird reels back and forth. She was so random, just like me, which is why she understood my humor. It would absolutely make my day whenever I saw a message or Instagram reel that she had sent. I would check up on her when she was tired or sick. I didn’t know how to help her best, so I would drop a text to see how she’s doing. I was happy when good things happened to her. I would be sad if someone made her feel unhappy.
She gave me a reason to do things. For example, I hadn’t played my guitar for 6 years. But I suddenly got motivated to clean my guitar and replace the old, worn-out strings. I then recorded myself playing a song for her and uploaded the video to my Instagram story. I would smile so wide when she liked my Instagram stories. Her likes gave me a reason to revisit my hobbies, which had otherwise been forgotten. I wrote poems for her and reposted them on my Instagram story. I used to dream about her too. They were pleasant dreams in which she’s just talking, and I’m listening intently, as if every word cured a fictitious disease I had. One day, I made an origami swan out of paper for her because I found out she likes cute things. I loved making that paper swan using my hands. Her happiness was my goal. Oh, man! She deserved the entire world for how amazing a person she was.
Now, the time had come to tell her my feelings. I chose a nice spot to meet on a Tuesday. She came and sat opposite me. I was quite nervous, and my voice cracked multiple times. But she listened patiently and was so respectful towards how I felt about her. She comforted me and made sure that I was keeping well. I remember there being a swarm of mosquitoes near me, and she promptly shooed them away, making sure that I wouldn’t get bitten by one. I showed her one of the many poems I’d written about her, which she hadn’t seen before. I gave her three gifts, which included the handmade paper origami swan. She really loved the gifts. Her eyes twinkled. After some time, we shook hands and took a photo. We met again a few weeks later so that I could say goodbye. We sat for an hour and just talked about random things. We talked about our dreams, and she gave me the closure I needed.
I still remember her to this day. I still dream about her. I have been listening to the song, “I Thought I Saw Your Face Today”, and every time I listen to it, I am reminded of her. I am reminded of what it was like to know her. I don’t have any hate toward her. Nor will I ever speak ill of her. My hope is that wherever she goes, she is happy and feels loved. She deserves good people in her life. She deserves only the best. And I really do hope that she achieves all that her heart desires. I love talking about her and saying her name. I’m pretty sure that I have annoyed my friends by talking about her most of the time. Sometimes, I even recite her name to myself.
Recently, I proved my own theorem in math, so I named something in it after the initials of her first and last name as a small tribute. I felt so happy and proud to have incorporated her initials into the theorem, as it was the first major theorem I had proved in my mathematical research. I don’t care if it’s too much according to other people. I did everything for her because I liked her and because I wanted to. People told me not to spend so much time and effort on her. They said, “You don’t know how she feels about you, so why waste your energy?” But I ask: why not? Why not care so much for a human being? Why should I like someone just to expect something in return? Why can’t I just like a person and do things for them because I want to?. “But won’t you get hurt?”, and to that I say: I probably will, but a person like her is so rare that I’m willing to fight the entire world for her. I would go out of my way to love someone like her. I can’t be nonchalant about love. I will express how I feel because I am human. Our entire existence as a species is defined by our emotions.
Love isn’t earned, it’s given. I love a person because of how they make me feel. It’s never always about the looks. When someone makes me feel safe, and when someone makes me feel like I’m not the only crazy person in the room, then I like that. Some will say, “But there are so many people you haven’t met yet”. So? I met her, and it felt like she was one of a kind. Which she is. There might be more people that I’ll meet, but none that compare to her. I may never love again the way I loved her. “Don’t you hate her?” No, why would I? She never treated me badly, nor did she laugh at me when I told her how I felt. She’s allowed to make her choice, right? She’s a human being just like me. Why are we treating women like they belong to us? That they must agree to whatever we say. Give them the same freedom that men have.
“Women don’t care about anyone; they’re selfish”. No, John Doe, you generalizing Andrew Tate wannabe idiot, women care a lot more about things than men do. And how are they selfish? Doesn’t a woman sacrifice so much? Doesn’t a mother? Doesn’t a wife move with her husband when he’s relocated for his job? Let’s see a husband do that for his wife. While some husbands might indeed move with their wives, in most cases, it’s the woman who has to adjust for the man. It’s the woman who is supposed to understand. A wife is treated as though she is her husband’s property, ready to answer at his beck and call. A wife isn’t owned by her husband. She is a companion to her husband in this journey that we call life. A wife is equal to her husband. A woman is equal to a man. So don’t give me all of these excuses for your incompetence in doing the bare minimum for a woman you like. If you truly love a woman, you’ll move mountains for her, you’ll stand by her when everyone else is against her, you’ll go through the rough patches together, and you’ll love her unconditionally, even with her faults. With this, I conclude whatever you want to call my collection of paragraphs. Thank you for reading.
