In That First Look - A Love That Waited Through Time

 

First day of college,
the room a rising hum —
new faces, new names,
new laughter in the air.

I walked in slowly,
half unsure,
half invisible.

And then—
your eyes
met mine.

Still.
Clear.
Softly smiling.

You were looking at me
as if you knew
how I would feel,
before I did.

Something stirred.
Not loud.
Just enough
to silence the noise around.

But the moment passed.
I moved on,
half-aware
of what had just begun.

That night,
sleep left me.

Not a storm —
just a gentle ache,
pressing on the edges of thought.

Your eyes returned,
again and again.
Not as memory,
but presence.

Then I knew —
I had fallen in love
at first sight.

Not with your name,
nor your voice —
but with that stillness
that looked into me
like I was home.

From then on,
my eyes looked for yours —
and yours,
they never hid.

In corridors,
in silent shelves of the library,
between passing crowds —
our glances met
like two pages
in the same book.

No promises.
Just pauses
that held too much.

Then came
the first touch —
accidental,
but electric.

Then a hug,
then the brushing of fingers,
then a kiss
so quiet
it silenced everything else.

Letters followed —
ink and heartbeat
on fragile paper,
sent with trembling hope.

But love, too,
is tested.

One day —
a storm.
No warning.
No words.

Just distance.
Sudden,
unnamed.

We were apart —
so apart
that even memory
began to blur.

No reasons given,
no goodbyes spoken.

Only silence.
Only emptiness
where your gaze used to live.

Time went on.
Years became decades.
We built lives.
But I…
I never stopped
looking for your face
in the faces of strangers.

More than forty years passed.

Then,
one ordinary day,
your name found me
through a whisper,
a screen,
a trace.

My fingers trembled
as I wrote to you.
No expectations.
Just truth.

And then —
your message came.
A yes.
A heart that had waited too.

We met again.

You looked older —
as did I.
But your eyes?
Still that same quiet sky.

We spoke.
We wept.
We remembered.

Old wounds ached,
but the love…
oh, the love
had never aged.

That same intensity —
like the first day,
like the first look,
was back.

Stronger now.
Quieter.
But unshaken.

Now we are together again.
Not in haste,
not in passion —
but in peace.

We don’t speak as much —
we don’t need to.

Love, now,
just breathes.

It’s in shared silences,
in the brush of fingers,
in tea cups and soft mornings.

No longer about time —
but about presence.

We are together.
This time,
to stay.

We once loved
through a glance.
We now love
through time itself.

You were
my first look.
You are
my final breath.