"...in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen."
The amens rippled through the chapel, soft and solemn.
It was a Sunday in June. My father had just been called into another office - again.
Which meant I wouldn't be seeing him around much anymore.
Not that I really did before.
We had only been in this new city for a year,
and I was already tired of starting over.
New faces. New smiles.
"You'd hardly be seeing her now,"
a voice behind me said.
"Yeah..." I muttered, not really paying attention.
Until I followed his gaze.
That's when I saw you.
Tall. Lanky. Tired eyes.
You looked like someone the world had already tried to outgrow.
And all I said was,
"Nah, she's too tall."
I didn't know that one careless sentence would stay with me for years.
Four years later, we were close.
It began with random texts,
turned into late-night calls,
and soon it felt like the day hadn't started till I'd heard from you.
Our families knew each other;
we were always around each other.
Some people thought it was the start of a love story.
But me?
I called it denial.
Because I knew.
You'd liked me before we ever started talking
before the calls,
before the jokes,
before I had the courage to notice you back.
And maybe I loved you too,
but I was too insecure to believe someone like you could ever want me.
So I pretended not to.
But one day, it hit me
the flutter when I heard your name,
the way my day felt lighter after your texts,
how I'd start worrying about how I looked whenever you were near.
My heart was gone before I even realized I'd fallen.
I told myself it was just a crush.
That if I confessed, I'd be free.
So one night, during one of our usual calls,
I finally said it.
"I love you."
You went quiet. Then laughed softly.
"What? Sorry, I think I heard you wrong."
"I said I love you, B."
A pause. Then
"Really?"
"Yeah. I know it's weird, but..."
"I love you too."
I swear my heart stopped.
I wasn't ready for yes.
I wasn't ready for you.
Months later, I officially asked you out.
You said yes.
We kept it a secret, except for a few close friends.
It felt like our own little world
quiet, soft, sacred.
Our first kiss wasn't planned.
We were talking, laughing, teasing like always,
and then you went quiet.
I thought I'd said something wrong.
So I leaned in, ready to apologize,
and you leaned closer and kissed me.
Just a peck.
Quick. Awkward.
But it felt like a hundred butterflies burst out of my chest.
I pulled back, stunned,
and you gave me that sly little smirk.
And right there, I knew I'd lost.
I'd fallen, completely.
You became my favorite part of every day
the reason I smiled for no reason,
the one voice that could calm me,
the one person I wanted to protect,
even from myself.
I loved you for your laugh
the way it filled a room and softened the edges of my worst days.
I loved you for your smile
how it felt like sunlight breaking through rain.
I loved you for your beauty,
but not just the kind everyone saw.
You treated me like I was someone special.
You made me want to be better.
You made me feel like I mattered.
You were my anchor and my muse,
the light I didn't know I needed.
Your talent in dancing was always captivating.
I was always jealous when you danced in public,
because I knew other guys were thinking the same things I was
how perfect your body was,
how soft your lips looked,
how your thin waist made the world itself seem unfair.
And maybe it's strange to admit,
but those little things stuck with me
your lips, your laugh, your quiet confidence
the way you'd move like music itself loved you.
If I could keep talking about you, I never would stop.
You were art,
and I was the boy too scared to ruin the painting.
I loved you for so much more than you'll ever know.
You were the best thing that ever happened to me.
And I only wish we could've had more time.
I loved her,
and that will forever be true.
She was my light, my calm,
the person who made growing up feel a little less heavy.
And even though life pulled us apart,
I'll always be thankful that for a while
I got to love her,
and be loved back.
I only wish we could've had more time together.
But maybe that's what makes it beautiful
that it ended before it could fade.