Chapter 3:
A Love Letter

Dear —

I remember you, your face radiant like a puppy’s smile, bright as sunshine, yet touched with the tender sadness of the moon.

When I looked into your eyes, I couldn’t hold my gaze for long. I was afraid you'd see through me, afraid my own vulnerability would bleed through. Afraid that I’d see a shining star in front of me and hope for it. I was so terrified of falling in love, even though love is the one gift I’ve always prayed God would someday give me.

You were the kind of person I couldn't label. A universe in nicknames, but no single word could quite capture the way you fit.

With you, the world felt smaller, like only two of us existed. I didn't notice others the way I usually did.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt happy, unexpectedly. Quieter, steadier, like I had found something I didn’t know I was searching for.

It wasn't love at first sight. I fell for you, little by little without realizing, but so quickly it felt like forever has been passed between us.

Sometimes I disappeared into myself, forgetting who I was outside your gravity. As much as I longed to love, my body resisted, guarding me from the pain I feared was coming.

I pushed people away without meaning to. But I always hoped you’d return—or that the universe would somehow bring us back to each other, the way it did for a while.

Something in me pulled so tight and so tangled, and in the end, even closeness turned into distance.

You're not here anymore. And that absence doesn't crash, or explode, but it dwells. It breathes through everything, like a melody that won't disappear, like a story retold long after it should have ended.

Love,