Some people say every love story has a happy ending.

Ours never had the chance to begin.

I saw her only a few times,

yet somehow she became the person I thought about every single day.

We never held hands, never shared a first kiss,

and never promised each other forever.

Still, my heart chose her before I even realized what was happening.

Slow,

Love,

End,

Slow,

Life had already written different paths for us.

She belonged to a world I could never truly enter,

while I stood quietly in mine, watching from a distance.

Every time our eyes met, it felt as if time stopped,

but reality always returned before

either of us could say the words we were hiding.

I often imagined what our life could have been.

Long walks under the evening sky,

endless conversations about our dreams,

and growing old beside each other.

Those moments existed only in my imagination,

but they felt more real than anything else.