Love is safest in imagination.
In imagination, nobody disappoints.Nobody hesitates.Nobody chooses fear.
Reality, however, has hands.And hands can tremble.
It was the first time we decided to meet under the same sky instead of describing it to each other.
There was no background music.No cinematic slow motion.Just a railway platform filled with ordinary people living ordinary lives.
And me,holding a heartbeat that refused to behave.
She had sent a simple message.
"I'm here."
Two words.But my hands felt like they were holding thunder.
I saw her before she saw me.
Elira.
Not a metaphor.Not a constellation.Not a soft voice in my ear.
Human.
Standing there with slightly messy hair from the wind,holding her bag too tightly,pretending she wasn't nervous.
And suddenly I realized something terrifying.
In calls, you can mute yourself.In texts, you can delete.In dreams, you can rewrite.
In person, you are just… you.
She turned.
Our eyes met.
And for a second, the world did not explode.
It simply paused.
Not dramatic.Not loud.
Just two souls adjusting to gravity.
I walked toward her.Each step felt like stepping into truth.
"Hi," I said.
That was it.The grand poetic man who writes about constellations reduced to one syllable.
She smiled.
Not the dreamy smile from my imagination.A real one.Slightly shy.Slightly guarded.Beautiful in a way that wasn't curated.
"Hi," she replied.
And there it was.
The first crack in our perfect fantasy.
Silence.
Not the comfortable kind from calls.Not the sacred kind between breaths.
This was different.
This was two humans realizing that love online is poetry,but love in person is courage.
We walked.
Side by side.Not touching.Aware of the inches between us like they were oceans.
I wanted to say something extraordinary.Instead, I asked, "Was the journey okay?"
She nodded.
Then laughed softly.
"We talk for hours every night, and now we sound like strangers."
There it was.The first honest moment.
I smiled.
"Maybe we're just scared of breaking the magic."
She looked at me.Not dreamy this time.Direct.
"Magic doesn't break," she said quietly."Expectations do."
That sentence stayed with me.
We found a small café.Ordinary.Plastic chairs.Warm tea.No galaxies above us.
Just two cups.Two hands.Two nervous souls.
At one point, our fingers brushed while reaching for sugar.
Electricity.Yes.
But not the cinematic kind.
It was softer.More dangerous.
Because it was real.
Hours passed.Conversations slowly found rhythm again.Laughter returned.Stories felt lighter.
And for a moment, I thought we made it.Reality didn't ruin us.
Then came the question I wasn't ready for.
She looked at me while stirring her tea.
"Are we the same outside imagination?"
It wasn't insecurity.It wasn't accusation.
It was fear.
The purest kind.
I didn't answer immediately.
Because the truth was simple.I didn't know.
In imagination, I am fearless.In reality, I overthink.I doubt.I hesitate.
In imagination, she is perfect.In reality, she looks away when she's unsure.She bites her lip when she doesn't know what to say.She checks her phone when conversations get heavy.
And suddenly I understood something important.
We weren't meeting to confirm perfection.
We were meeting to test acceptance.
"I don't want you to be the same," I finally said."I want you to be real."
Her eyes softened.But something flickered behind them.
A storm.
"I'm not easy," she whispered."I overthink everything. I shut down when I'm overwhelmed. I need space sometimes, even from people I love."
Love.
She didn't realize she said it.
But I heard it.
Every letter.
"I'm not easy either," I admitted."I attach deeply. I stay even when I should leave. I romanticize pain."
Two confessions.Not of love.
Of flaws.
And strangely, that felt more intimate.
The sun began to set.
Golden light spilled across her face.
And for the first time that day,I wasn't comparing her to stars.
I was just looking at her.
Human. Imperfect. Breathing.
"Are you disappointed?" she asked suddenly.
That question hurt.
Because it revealed what she feared most.
"No," I said."I'm adjusting."
She looked confused.
"I fell in love with your soul," I continued."Now I'm learning your human."
Her eyes filled, not with tears, but with relief.
And then the first real moment happened.
She reached for my hand.
Not dramatic.Not trembling.
Just intentional.
And this time, when our fingers intertwined,there was no fantasy.
No galaxies.No metaphors.
Just warmth.Just pulse.Just now.
But love is not only ups.
As evening deepened, reality brought its first shadow.
Her phone buzzed.
She looked at the screen.Her expression changed.
Distance entered her eyes.
"I have to go earlier than planned," she said.
Something tightened inside me.
"Everything okay?"
She nodded too quickly.
"Family."
One word.Heavy.Unexplained.
And suddenly, I felt the fragile nature of what we had.
Love can be strong.Circumstances can be stronger.
We walked back to the platform.
This time, closer.
But quieter.
At the train door, she turned to me.
"This feels different," she said.
"Bad different?"
She shook her head.
"Scary different."
The train horn echoed.
She stepped inside.
And before the doors closed, she said something that would change everything.
"If reality ever becomes too heavy, promise me we won't run back to imagination. We'll fight here."
Fight here.
In real life.With flaws.With family.With fear.
The train started moving.
I stood there watching her disappear,not into stars,but into distance.
And for the first time, I understood.
Love is not built in dreams.
It is built in moments where you choose to stayeven when it's no longer magical.
That night, we didn't text immediately.
No long paragraphs.No poetic confessions.
Just one message from her, hours later.
"Today was real."
I stared at the screen for a long time.
Then replied.
"Yes. And I'm still here."