Late evening. February 15, 2015. The glow of my phone. That fluttering in my stomach. Then his notification appeared.
— "What's your name?"
Direct. Simple. Unexpected.
I froze. I came from a world of manners, rules, and caution.
But I typed my full name. No shortcuts.
Every letter mattered. I don't remember his exact reply.
But I remember the feeling. In minutes, everything had changed.
Two strangers. Just hours of talking. Yet he typed like shyness didn't exist.
I didn't know whether to follow or pull back
We messaged until late. Even now, thinking back, I blush. His words were sweet. Sharp. Cold. Hot. All at once. It was intoxicating. Terrifying. Weeks passed. I realized he was popular. Talking to other girls. Even going out with some. I felt hurt. Disrespected. I had pushed everyone else away for him. He didn't care. Maybe we were from different worlds. Different rules. Different ideas of love.
I wondered if I was just a pastime. A backup plan. I hurt. My first love… it wasn't what I imagined.
Then one day, he sent:
— "I want to see you.
The distance was huge. Impossible. I should have said no. But I couldn't. Courage—or madness—I took the train. No planning. No warnings. Father had no idea. Only my mother made it possible. My sweet, amazing mom. Without her, I couldn't have gone. And that meeting… Magical. Surreal.
A memory I carry like it happened yesterday.
But what happened next… that moment, that first step into reality, changed everything.
And it all started the moment I stepped off the train.