CHAPTER LIII
The Realization of Love
I don't even remember when it truly happened—when Sita stopped being just a presence in my life and quietly became the pulse of my every thought. Love didn't come with thunder or fireworks; it crept in silently, like a soft breeze at dawn, and before I realized it, I was already swept away.
I couldn't stop myself from moving toward her, even when I knew I should slow down, even when I tried to deny it. It was like some unseen force kept pulling me closer, binding me in invisible threads I never asked for, yet couldn't break free from.
Her eyes… even when I wasn't looking at her, even when she wasn't physically in front of me, I would close my own and see them there—those eyes that seemed carved from another world. It was as if they had been etched into my very soul. My heart found comfort in imagining them, in replaying their warmth over and over, until it became my most dangerous addiction.
How can someone feel this beautiful? How can a person exist who makes you believe that every song, every poem, every whispered prayer was secretly written for them? That's what Sita does to me. She makes me question everything—fate, coincidence, even the stubborn walls I built around my heart.
I keep asking myself—why? Why am I being tied to her in this unspoken, inexplicable bond? Why do I feel like no matter how far I go, I'll still end up circling back to her, like planets caught in the orbit of their sun?
I don't even know if we'll meet again, not for sure. Life is uncertain, cruel even, and sometimes it steals people away before you've had the courage to tell them what they mean to you. That thought terrifies me. The idea that she could vanish from my world before I've had the chance to hold her hand, to tell her what she is to me—it tears at me in ways I can't explain.
But this much, I know.
If she exists—if the universe has truly allowed our lives to touch, if the fragile threads of our connection have already begun to weave together—then I cannot, I will not, let her slip away.
Because somewhere deep inside, I've already decided: my story is incomplete without her.
And if love is the courage to act on the impossible, then for her—for Sita—I'll gather every ounce of courage I have.
Even if the whole world tries to keep us apart, I will find a way to her.
When the Universe Conspires
If my love is true, then one thing must also be true—
When you desire someone with all your heart, the entire universe begins to conspire to bring them to you.
That thought echoed in me like a prayer as I drove, the city lights blurring outside my window. My past played in fragments behind my eyes—the choices, the losses, the moments of loneliness that had led me here. And now, as if destiny had been quietly weaving threads in the background all along, they had all brought me to her. To Sita.
By the time we reached the restaurant, my heart was pounding harder than the car's engine. I parked, stepped out into the soft glow of street lamps, and walked around to her side. Slowly, carefully, almost like she was something fragile I needed to protect, I opened her door and helped her out.
And then—time stopped.
Sita stepped into the night air, and the world seemed to pause to watch her. The red dress she wore clung to her like a whisper of fire, her hair catching the faint glow of the lamps like threads of night kissed by starlight. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. For a moment, I couldn't believe she was real.
How could someone like her exist in this world? And how could fate be so generous—to let me be the one standing beside her?
I swear, in that instant, every insecurity I had about not being enough, every fear that she might never feel the same, was drowned out by the overwhelming truth of what I saw: the most beautiful, most precious person in the universe was walking into my life, step by step, holding my hand.
I didn't want to look away. I didn't want to blink, afraid that if I did, she might vanish like a dream. My heart whispered a selfish wish—that maybe I could spend the rest of my life like this. Just looking at her, memorizing every curve of her smile, every spark in her eyes, until eternity itself grew tired.
The restaurant, the people, the noise—it all melted into nothing. All that remained was her.
And as she looked at me, a soft smile tugging at her lips, I realized something so terrifyingly beautiful: I didn't just want Sita in my life.
I wanted to give her all of my life.
If forever could be gifted, I wanted her to unwrap mine.
Sometimes, all I want to do is tell you—everything.
Tell you how much I love you. Tell you how completely you've taken over my heart.
But then… fear holds me back.
Fear whispers: What if she says no?
And that single thought eats away at me, quietly, endlessly.
There are nights when I imagine writing you a letter, pouring every single poem I've ever written for you into it, and then saying:
"If your heart agrees, if you feel even a fraction of what I feel, then after reading this… just write yes. That's all I want. One word that could change my world."
Because you, Sita—you're like the butterfly I see every day. Beautiful. Fragile. Free.
And though I long to hold you, I never want to catch you, never want to trap you. Because you're already with me. You're already a part of my world, in ways I can't explain.
If I could, I would tell you this:
Anyone who wants to touch you, to reach you, to even dream of you…
must first pass through me.
Every pain, every fear, every storm—let it come to me first.
Because I love you. And I always will.
Before you, people came and went in my life. Faces blurred, names faded. But feelings—real, pure feelings—they never stayed. Not until you. With you, it's different. With you, it's true.
You're not just someone I love.
You're the only one I've ever truly loved.
The only one I will ever want.
And if I could whisper this into your ear right now, I'd say it over and over, until you believed it, until you felt it in your bones:
I love you.
I always have.
I always will.
To be continue....