the last 2 months have been heavy in ways i can’t really explain. i got sick, i made mistakes, and somewhere along the way, i lost myself. i kept trying to be someone easier to love, forcing myself to fit into expectations that were never mine. i smiled when i didn’t want to, stayed quiet when i should’ve spoken, and pretended i was okay when i was falling apart. i think i just wanted to be understood. or maybe, i just didn’t want to feel alone.
but everything changed one night when my friend said, “hey, meet my friend. this is joanneth.” you turned around, smiled, and reached out your hand. it sounds so simple, but that moment felt like something cracked open inside me like suddenly, life was no longer something i was surviving through, but something i was meant to feel again. i still remember how warm your smile was, how your hand felt steady against mine. you didn’t know it, but that tiny moment stitched something in me back together. you came into my life quietly, without force or expectation. you didn’t try to change me, you just stayed. you called me every night, made me laugh until i forgot what sadness sounded like, and noticed things no one else did. on our first date, you brought me lilies, my favorite flower. you never asked, never confirmed, but you saw me repost them once on instagram and remembered. that’s just who you are thoughtful in ways that feel effortless, gentle in ways that stay with me long after.
i knew you had chosen me long before we ever knew each other. before the world placed us in the same room, you had already seen me from afar, looking at me without knowing my name, without knowing who i was, yet somehow your heart seemed to understand something even i couldn’t name. and the funny thing is, i saw you that day too. i saw the way you smiled at my friend, the way you stood as if time had quietly paused around you, but i didn’t realize that only seconds later, my friend would say, “hey, meet joanneth.” and in that moment, i finally knew. the warmth i felt earlier belonged to you. strangely, when our hands touched for the first time, i didnt realize i was touching something i had been missing for a long time, something familiar, even though we had never shared a single word before. perhaps that’s just how fate works.
and then there was that one day the day that still plays in my head like a memory i never want to fade. i had just come back from my psychologist, eyes swollen from crying, heart heavy from talking about things i tried to bury for years. i didn’t want to see anyone, but you showed up anyway. you didn’t say much, you just pulled me into your arms and let me cry. you held me so tight that, for the first time in a long time, i didn’t feel like i was falling. and then for the first time you kissed my cheek soft, careful, like you were afraid i’d break if you touched me too hard. that was the moment i realized you didn’t just make me feel better. you saved me. because for the first time, being alive didn’t hurt so much. afterward, you bought me my favorite mcflurry. you didn’t even ask if i wanted it you just knew i did. you handed it to me and said, “you’ll feel better after this,” and i did. not because of the ice cream, but because you remembered. because you cared in ways that felt natural, not rehearsed. you made love feel easy.
a few nights later, we were stuck in traffic after our second date. the city lights blurred outside the window, and the radio started playing every breath you take by the police. i remember smiling and telling you, “you know, this song sounds romantic, but it’s actually about obsession.” you turned to me and said, “oh, okay. then i’ll listen to it every day.” i laughed and asked why, and you just smiled and said, “because i’m kind of obsessed with the person sitting next to me right now.” i looked at you, trying to hide the way my heart was racing, and i thought, so this is what being chosen feels like. now, as i write this, that song has already played more than five times maybe because i can’t stop replaying that moment in my head.
but the night that stays with me the most wasn’t the perfect one. it was the one when i almost gave up. i was fragile, crying, and my thoughts were too loud. i called you at 3 am, twice, but you didn’t answer because your phone was on do not disturb. and then, a few minutes later, you called me back and asked, “what’s wrong?” i couldn’t even talk, i just cried. you didn’t hesitate. you came. you showed up with your black motorcycle the one that looks a little like mine and told me to get on. we rode to the beach. it was quiet, dark, the kind of silence that feels like safety. we sat by the shore, you brushed my hair softly when the wind messed it up, and when the sand started flying, you covered my face with your hand. that was the second time you kissed my cheek.
and i still remember that night at the beach the first time you kissed me on the lips. the air was cold, the wind brushed against my skin, and the sound of the waves filled the silence between us. yet somehow, in that moment, i felt warm. it wasn’t the kind of warmth that came from the weather, but from you, from the way you looked at me right before you leaned in, from the way your hand gently found mine. my heart was beating so fast i could barely breathe, and i swear there were butterflies fluttering in my stomach, soft and restless. when your lips met mine, everything else disappeared the noise, the cold, the world. it was just us. and for the first time in a long time, i didn’t feel scared of love. i just felt… home. i remember thinking how strange it was i had told you earlier that i didn’t want to see you anymore, that i needed space, that i wasn’t ready. but you still came. you still stayed. you still saved me, without even realizing it. that’s when i knew that when you said, “i’ll wait until you’re ready,” you meant every word. you remind me of someone raised by love someone taught to care in quiet, steady ways. that morning, after the beach, when my sandals got covered in sand, you cleaned them. you even washed my feet, saying you didn’t want me to bother cleaning up when i got home. we stayed out until sunrise, had breakfast at mcdonald’s around 5 a.m., and i remember looking at you and thinking, “this must be what peace feels like.”
you once said you don’t believe in fate, but i think i do, because how else do i explain you? how else do i explain the way you showed up when i was at my lowest, when i was so close to giving up on love, on people, on myself? you became my reminder that sometimes, the right person doesn’t come to fix you. they come to stand beside you while you find the strength to fix yourself. i’m still healing. i still have days where i feel lost, where the world feels too heavy, and i forget how to be soft. but knowing you makes it easier to keep trying. you made me believe that love can be gentle, that healing doesn’t always have to be lonely, and that home isn’t always a place sometimes, it’s a person who holds you when the world feels unbearable.
so maybe i will choose you this time, not because it’s easy, or because i’m suddenly unafraid of getting hurt again, but because something in me feels at peace when i’m with you. because when i look at you, i don’t see a risk i see a reason. a reason to stay a little longer, to try a little harder, to believe that love can be something soft and kind again. i’ll choose you because you never asked me to be anything other than myself. you saw me, messy, uncertain, still healing and you didn’t flinch. you stayed. you held me when i broke, laughed with me when i forgot how to smile, and reminded me that even the smallest moments can mean everything.
ever since that night at the beach, i’ve prayed to God that you were my destination, my place to come home to. but if life decides to carry us elsewhere, if the waves take us to different shores, i’ll still be grateful that, even for a little while, we found each other in the same tide. so if someday i forget to say thank you, if life ever takes us in different directions, please know this ;
my life truly started the night my friends introduced you. from that simple smile, from that first handshake, from that first “hi,” everything began again for me. you were the quiet beginning i didn’t know i needed, the warmth that found me when i thought i was unworthy of being loved. and no matter where i go from here, a part of me will always carry that moment your hand, your smile, your name the night everything finally felt alive again.
