I won’t lie to you—
There was a girl once.
Not a fantasy,
but a fire I tried to hold with bare hands.
She didn’t break me,
but loving her made me bleed in verses.

Yes, I wrote poems that smelled like her.
Yes, I smiled at memories I can’t erase.
But no—
She wasn’t you.
She was the storm I mistook for rain.

When you ask me,
"Who was she?"
I won’t flinch.
Because you won’t be standing in her shadow—
you’ll be the light that ends it.

You’ll never have to compete with my past.
You’ll be the reason I finally leave it behind.
You won’t need to fight for a place in my heart—
you’ll walk in and find the room already made.

You see,
she was the chapter that taught me pain.
But you…
You’re the page I’ll never stop rereading.
Not because you’re perfect—
but because you're real.

So when the questions rise in your chest,
when jealousy knocks on your ribs,
just remember:
I’m not here to hide anything.
I’m here to build something
so sacred—
even the past kneels in reverence.

And if I ever look into your eyes and say,
"You're the only one I see,"
know this—
it's not because there were no others...
it's because none of them stayed long enough to become forever.

I saw you again, not in presence, but in light,
A flicker in the reel, a whisper in the night.
Your hands, adjusting your saree with grace,
Unaware, you burned your name on my gaze.

In a crowd of colors, you were the calm,
A breeze in winter, a hush in a psalm.
I laughed at my heart, stubborn and wild,
Still dreaming of you like a foolish child.

They say fate draws lines we cannot bend,
That some stories are not meant to transcend.
But I—
I have danced with the idea of us in my mind,
In a parallel world where rules are kind.

You wore tradition like a crown that day,
And I, a silent poet, looked away.
But in dreams, I held your hand, so light—
Not to keep, just to feel it once right.

They won’t let me call you mine, I know,
Same roots, same echoes, that’s how these go.
But hearts don’t know of caste or clan,
They bloom when they simply can.

So if you ever wonder, even in disguise,
Why a breeze feels familiar, or tears just rise—
Know this:
You were a chapter I couldn’t rewrite,
A light that warmed me… then slipped out of sight.

I found you in fragments,
not in face—but in feeling.
In verses you left on passing winds,
soft, sorrow-laced, and healing.

A selenophile’s sigh beneath moonlight,
your words, aching like autumn’s breath—
and I? Just a stranger
who mistook your sadness for depth.

I wrote not to be seen,
but to leave a trace in your night.
A quiet thought, a flicker—
never meant to become your spotlight.

But maybe I lingered too long,
near a silence not mine to keep.
Stepped into spaces meant for no one,
where your shadows learn to sleep.

And now I retreat, with hands in pockets,
like an evening walk gone still—
where I should've just sat beside,
not stirred a soul against its will.

So take these words like rain on stone,
they'll vanish before they stain.
Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s overthinking—
or maybe... just love without a name.

This is the last you’ll hear from me,
no echoes, no reply—
just a soft goodbye folded in poetry,
and a hope that you reach the sky