I didn’t just fall for her.
I surrendered.
There was no warning, no hesitation…
just a moment where my heart recognized something my mind couldn’t explain.
People look at us and they think they know the story.
They see her wildness… her beauty… her fire.
They see the age difference and they shake their heads.
They whisper that I’ve lost myself.
That I’m not thinking clearly anymore.
But they only see the part of her that the world is allowed to see.
I see the truth.
I see the softness she hides behind her laughter.
I see the innocence she protects like a wounded animal guarding its last breath.
I see her — the real her — the one who exists only when the world is silent.
The one who looks at me like she’s been searching for me just as long as I’ve been searching for her.
Loving her doesn’t feel safe.
It doesn’t feel rational.
It feels like standing at the edge of something endless —
and choosing to fall anyway.
And maybe that’s why they’re afraid for me.
Maybe that’s why they try to pull me away.
But what they don’t understand is this:
For the first time in my life, I am not living on the surface of my own world. I am not pretending. I am not performing. I am awake — painfully, beautifully awake.
She is the first thing that ever made me feel alive.
Before her, I was just moving.
Breathing.
Functioning.
A body passing through days that all looked the same.
Then she appeared — like a storm that tears the world open.
A force.
A truth.
A mirror I couldn’t look away from.
And if this is madness…
If this is the kind of love that burns instead of comforts…
Then let me burn.
Let the flames take everything I was before her.
Because I would rather lose myself in her —
Than return to the man I was when I didn’t know she existed.
And if I had to choose again…
knowing the cost, the judgment, the scars, the chaos—
I’d still choose her.
Every. Single. Time