The First Time I Saw Him

I was fifteen when I first saw him — not in the waking world, but in a dream so vivid, it settled into my memory like it had always been there. The kind of dream you never forget, because some part of you whispers this is real. 
In the dream, I was in a place that didn’t belong to time. A meadow beneath a lavender sky, with stars flickering like they were breathing. There was a lake, still as glass, reflecting a moon that looked bigger than the sky could hold. I stood on its shore, barefoot, the hem of my gown soaked in dew. Not a modern dress — but something out of a different century. Heavy silk, soft laces. I looked like someone from a story long forgotten. 
And then — I turned. 
He was already there. 
On a horse, tall and still, watching me. 
I didn’t know his name. I had never seen his face before. 
But I knew him. Deeply. Instinctively. As though my soul had been searching for him in every crowd I’d ever walked through. 
He dismounted slowly, never taking his eyes off me. There was no fear, no doubt, only a stillness — like we had both arrived. I felt warmth rush into my chest as he stepped closer. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. 
We danced. 
No music. No words. Just the rhythm of two beings who had known each other before names, before countries, before time began counting years. I looked into his eyes, and the world disappeared. In his gaze, I found every emotion I had never felt in waking life — love, safety, devotion, and something else… a promise. 
Wait for me. 
I’ll find you again. 
When I woke up, I cried. 
Not because it was over, but because I knew it wasn’t just a dream. 
From that moment on, I waited. 
Not actively. Not dramatically. Just quietly — a secret thread running through my life, pulling me forward. I saw glimpses of him in strangers. I searched for his eyes in passing faces. Now and then, he’d return in my sleep. On a boat. In a forest. Across a battlefield. Always looked at me like he remembered too. 
I didn’t know when, or how, but I believed I would meet him again. 
In this life. In this skin. In a moment I couldn’t plan. 
And I did.

They say the soul remembers what the mind forgets.


They say you meet your twin flame once in a lifetime—


When I met the first woman who looked like her, felt like her… I thought it was fate.


Because the soul doesn't always recognize love by its softness.


the storm that shakes it, not the calm that saves it.


I was still haunted by the version of her I thought I knew — the one who wasn't her at all.


I had already betrayed the part of me that was built for her.


This is the story of how I had to lose her — and myself — to finally understand the difference between a shadow…


Chapter 35 - Book Two – Prologue Title: “The Mirror Before Her”