Before I met him, I was alone for a long time.
Not that I am complaining but that was how it was for me. I took my time very sweetly. I did not commit to anyone after my childish love affairs. I was glad I took it. For six years after that I focused on myself. I figured out what I wanted, what I hated. It was a good time to be alone.
Unlike others, I was not bitter with anything. I was alone because I chose to be. Over the years, I watched life unfold before me in a manner that I have planned. I was going to graduate and have a job. I did it.
Then came him. I was never the type to face love head on. I was the one who waits and waits. I knew I will meet someone one day but I was never really looking forward to it. Encountering him was like waking up from a long slumber but slowly and easily. It was a nice feeling. Like I said I was not bitter and simply carried on with my life. I opened up to him. I was like a book that was simply lying on a cluttered bookshelf and he picked me up with the gentlest touch. He flipped my pages and intently listened to my stories—from the strangest dreams to my most wicked thoughts—he took them all in with wonder that I have never seen or felt before.
That was how he got me. All those years that I spent alone, all of them came in passing. Before him I was travelling down a road I have chosen for myself, glimpsing on the scenery every once in a while. There were colors. When there was him, the colors got brighter and more vivid. How it was possible, I cannot tell. He was magic to me and no matter how ordinary the world sees him, he will always be extraordinary to me.
I would not say he saved me. I was not in need of any saving for I was content with what I have. Instead, I would say he adjusted my life’s lens, turning every view and image into its sharper and more defined version. It was like everything came into focus.
If this was how love is supposed to feel then I would not want it to end. Maybe he will never know just how much he means to me, for I was never good with expressing my feelings. I hope someday he would be able to know. Perhaps, from a stranger who will accidentally capture a photo of me looking at him like it was the first time I have seen something so magnificent. I really do not care how. I just want him to know that he touched a life. He touched my life. For that I am thankful.