That one night, oh, that one sacred night, is carved in the chambers of my heart like a timeless painting—where every brushstroke is a whisper of love I never spoke aloud, every color a memory that refuses to fade. The moon was full, the sky was gentle, and the world was noisy, but for me, everything stilled—because you were there. You, the boy I loved in silence for three long years. You, who never knew how every word from your lips was a song I memorized, how your smallest glance was a thousand suns rising in my soul. I had asked you to meet me, uncertain whether you would come, because you had your boundaries, your solitude like a soft wall I never dared to push too hard. But you came. And that one decision of yours, to show up when I thought you wouldn't—that became the moment my whole heart lit up. We had nowhere special to go, so we stopped by a roadside shop to eat masala puri, something I had never tasted before—but somehow, it became the most favourite feast of my life, simply because I shared it with you. The moonlight fell like a blessing, the noise of vehicles faded into a lullaby, and I remember only your face—calm, beautiful, unreadable. When you asked me to remove my specs, I felt like a child caught in a daydream. And when I did, your eyes met mine and it was not just a look—it was a moment where the earth stopped turning, and my heart forgot how to beat. I gave you a stone—painted with love, with two tiny kittens hugging—my emotions poured into something simple. You smiled, oh that soft smile, and it stitched itself into my soul forever. Later, I insisted on buying you something, anything, because the next day you were going away with your friends, and I was desperate to give you a piece of me to hold in your absence. You gently refused, but when you said, "If you were to buy, you should have bought," it broke me in ways I didn't show. Guilt clawed at me. Love ached in me. And as you dropped me back, as the destination drew near, my heart grew heavy like rain-laden clouds ready to pour. I couldn’t hold it anymore—I broke down, weeping like a child, holding onto your pants, clutching onto the last few seconds I had with you. "I'll miss you," I cried, "You’re going far away…" And you, patient, kind, warm—you comforted me, helped me into the bus. But oh, love, what you didn’t know is—I left a universe behind in that moment. A universe made of all the unspoken love, of masala puri under moonlight, of painted stones and trembling hands, of full moons and empty arms. And even now, I carry that night within me—not as pain, but as poetry, as reverence. Because you were never just a boy I loved—you were the silence that made my heart speak in verses.
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