Beginnings

Before I met you, I thought love was supposed to be perfect. A whirlwind, all-consuming feeling that swept you off your feet and carried you away. I thought love would be easy, flawless, and written in the stars. But when I look back at our beginnings, I realize love isn’t about perfection—it’s about real moments, imperfect and unplanned, that somehow become unforgettable.

I still remember the first time you saw me. There was something in your eyes that told me you had already decided what you felt. You didn’t say it outright, but I knew. You wanted me to turn back and look at you, and in your heart you made a deal with yourself: if she overturns, if she looks back, it means she likes me too. It was such a simple thought, yet so powerful. Later, you even told me you whispered to yourself, “Palat, palat”—overturn, turn back.

That moment became more than just a look—it became the first thread of our story. I didn’t realize then how much it meant to you, how you were holding your breath, waiting for a sign. But now, when I think about it, I see the beauty of it. Love doesn’t always begin with grand declarations. Sometimes, it begins with a glance, a turn, a small act that carries a world of meaning.

The memory makes me smile because it captures the innocence of first love. That nervous excitement, that hope hidden inside a single gesture, that silent prayer to be noticed. It wasn’t just about attraction—it was about connection. Something unspoken passed between us in that instant, and it became a memory neither of us would ever forget.

I never imagined love would look like this. I thought it would be something scripted, larger than life, but instead it was real—raw, imperfect, and yet perfectly ours. Every love story has its unique beginning, and ours started with palat, palat—with you waiting, with me turning, and with a spark that changed everything.

Looking back, I see now that love isn’t about chasing perfection. It’s about those tiny, delicate moments that leave marks on our hearts forever. That first smile, that playful challenge, that quiet longing—all of it built the foundation of what we share today. Love is made of these fragments, stitched together into something lasting.

For me, that moment was proof that love doesn’t always arrive with fireworks. Sometimes, it begins with something as simple as turning back, meeting someone’s eyes, and realizing that your story has just begun. And somehow, though it wasn’t what I had imagined, it fits perfectly.

Because in that one look, you weren’t just hoping I liked you—you were teaching me what love truly is: a mix of courage, vulnerability, and the magic of believing in small signs.

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