Before love Broke Me

I can still remember that night. The kind of night that refuses to fade, no matter how much time passes. The night that rearranged my heart without asking for permission. I walked into the church careless with my emotions, unaware that I was about to lose control of them completely. I didn’t come prepared for anything extraordinary. I was just tired. Tired in that quiet way that sinks into your bones after a long day of thinking too much, trying too hard, and feeling like life was passing without pausing to notice you. I remember stepping into the building, adjusting my bag on my shoulder, breathing in the familiar smell of polished floors and faint incense, ready to disappear into the crowd the way I always did. And then I saw him,He was standing there as though the world had paused just long enough to make room for him. He was perfectly tall, dark and beautiful in a way that felt unfair. There was something about him that reminded me of the sun, not blinding, but warm, he had this commanding presence, impossible to ignore once noticed. I hadn’t had feelings for anyone in a long time, not real ones, not the kind that made your chest tighten without warning. Yet there I was, looking at him, searching the room, secretly hoping he would look my way even for a second, but he didn’t, and still, my heart behaved as though he had. His voice came later, but even before I heard it, I felt it. Some people don’t need to speak to announce their presence, they simply exist loudly. I watched him from a distance, telling myself to calm down, reminding myself that I was new here, that this was just another night, another boring music seminar, another boring rehearsals. But my emotions had already betrayed me. Deep down, somewhere reckless and tender, I knew I was in trouble. I took a seat, still stealing glances, afraid that if I looked away for too long, he might disappear. I didn’t have anyone beside me to question my thoughts or pull me back to reality. No familiar face to tease me for staring. No voice reminding me to behave. I was alone with my imagination, and it was running wild. I pulled out my phone texting my friend, my fingers moving faster than my sense. I attempted to explain the beautiful thing I was staring at, how certain I felt, how ridiculous it sounded even to me. I told her half joking, half serious that I had just seen my husband. In a world where people struggled to decide what they wanted for dinner, I had found mine in the blink of an eye. The choir began, and I joined in because that was why I came. Singing had always been my safe place asides writing, I hid behind the crowd, letting my tiny soprano voice blend with others, grateful for the anonymity. I hated being noticed. It drained me. Attention felt heavy, like a spotlight I never asked for. So I sang quietly, sincerely, losing myself in the music while still aware of him somewhere in the room. Earlier that day, I had been awake for hours, trying to piece together something worthy to submit at work. Writing always demanded everything from me, my focus, my emotions, my honesty. By evening, I was exhausted. Joining the choir or attending seminars that involved choristers and singing felt like a small escape, something I had heard so much about and finally decided to try. I didn’t expect it to lead me here, standing between exhaustion and fascination, my heart doing too much. That night was the night. Walking into this seminar ground and seeing him? no, that wasn’t something I was willing to let go of easily. I sang as much as I could, my voice steady despite the chaos in my head. And while the music filled the room, my mind wandered shamelessly. I imagined spaces that didn’t yet exist. Separate rooms. Quiet conversations. Moments where it was just the two of us, and I could tell him how I felt without stumbling over my words. I imagined holding him, kissing him, loving him,I imagined wearing a sexy lingerie, cooking in the kitchen while he walks up behind me holding me and kissing my neck from behind, I thought about the tension that could create to our bodies, my thoughts ran wilder as I thought about how he could put me on the kitchen counter tracing his fingers up to my not so tight lingerie, feeling my wetness and tasting it almost immediately, building a life that felt gentle and full, I imagined children with his smile, laughter spilling into rooms we would call home. I imagined domestic peace, shared meals, soft mornings, and long nights filled with laughter. It was an imagination I didn’t want to end , I was full of it, I enjoyed every moment of what I had seen and thought of in my head and it was beautiful too, I imagined too much and I loved every bit of it. But sometimes in life when you’ve gone a long time without hope, it tends to rush in all at once when it finally finds you and I deep down knew it wasn’t a beautiful thing though but I didn’t mind, I needed the moment to carry me away, I needed to feel everything I was feeling at the time. The music continued, and I stayed hidden in plain sight, convinced that he hadn’t noticed me at all. That thought comforted me. It kept the moment safe, untouchable, something I could keep to myself. I didn’t know then that safety was already slipping away, I was so deep in my thoughts, so wrapped in the song and the possibilities blooming recklessly in my chest, that I didn’t notice the shift in the air behind me. I didn’t sense the pause or the presence until it was too late. I was cut short by a voice, his voice at least I thought, it was firm, too calm, very unfamiliar , right behind me, And in that moment, everything I thought I knew about that night was about to change,I wasn’t prepared for nothing or whatever was about to happen, I contemplated in the moment deciding whether to turn or not, but I did, I turned and It was him, standing right behind me, how come I asked myself, my mind racing through a million and one things at the same time..