The Moments That Changed Us
I remember the first time I met you, how we casually exchanged glances, neither of us expecting anything extraordinary to happen. There was no love at first sight, no sudden spark that made everything else blur into the background. No, it wasn’t like that. It was a gradual climb—a slow unfolding of something that neither of us could have predicted.
At first, you were just someone I met, someone who was kind, funny, with a sharp sarcasm and a playful teasing nature. You had a way of making the room feel lighter with your bad jokes that only you seemed to find funny. But somehow, the way you laughed, with such genuine joy, was contagious. Slowly, without even realizing it, you captured my attention, and then my heart, with such ease. You didn’t try to impress; you simply were, and that was enough.
I didn’t fall in love with you right away. At least not in the way that everyone talks about. It wasn’t this grand, cinematic moment where everything changed. But little by little, you began to win me over. The feeling was subtle, almost reversed from what I had expected. I started caring more than I wanted to admit. I found myself thinking about you more often, feeling something I couldn’t quite explain.
Then, there were the small things. You remembered things I’d said in passing, little conversations, trivial details from the past that I had long forgotten. You would remind me of them, and it was clear that you listened, that you cared. It wasn’t just empty chatter for you; it was proof that you were present with me, truly present. How long would this last? I wondered, half-expecting it to fade away. But it didn’t. You continued to surprise me, your presence etched deeper into my life with each day.
Then, as time passed, there were the days I would hear your voice, and I would cherish those moments like precious memories, believing they would last forever. But as life moved on, things changed, and one day, your voice started to fade. The sound that had once filled my heart now felt distant, fading into silence. It was as if I had lost a piece of myself, a part of me I didn’t even know I depended on so much.
And then I cried. I cried because I had forgotten the sound of your voice. I cried because it hurt to realize that you were no longer mine. The connection we had, the laughter we shared, and the love that grew silently between us—had all slipped away, as though time itself had stolen it from me.
