Last night, I dreamed about her, and it reminded me of our moments together. I just realized that I found you before I even knew I was looking. There was something in your eyes, a softness, a purity, a gaze that could make the world suddenly slow down. Being with you, it felt like everything was fine, as long as we stayed side by side. Even the lake we visited reflected that feeling, its surface trembling like a Van Gogh painting, alive, warm, and full of wonder. It felt like the universe was gently approving us, and I owe that moment, entirely, to the universe. We spoke about everything, our fears, our scars, our flaws. I know you carry pain from the past, and I do too. But none of it pushed me away. It made me want to stay longer, to choose you, through the past we survived and the future we haven’t met yet. And strangely, I found myself wishing that if I were to leave this world earlier, I could give you my eyes, so you could see the world the way I see you. I’ve missed you since the very first moment we met.