The Star in My Sky

He moved through the city as if it belonged to him, calm and golden beneath its restless lights. There was something in the way he carried himself a quiet force, a soft gravity that made the world lean in. He had a presence that wrapped around you slowly, then all at once, until you realised you were caught. Being near him felt electric and unsteady, like standing too close to fire and not wanting to step away. From the very first moment I saw him, I knew. Even the air changed when he arrived. It stilled. It listened.

Even now, when he walks toward me, everything else dissolves. The noise of the world blurs into silence. People still turn to look, still whisper, still smile like they’ve caught sight of something cinematic. And I smile too. Not because they’re wrong, but because they have no idea how right they are.

There’s a glow that happens when we stand together. Not one we wear, but one that finds us. It isn’t about appearances. It’s something deeper. Chemistry, yes but also familiarity. That soft ache that whispers, I’ve known you in every lifetime. When we were side by side, the world felt lit from within. We didn’t just shine. We illuminated.

And when he looked at me with those steady hazel eyes, everything in me cracked open. Not from pain, but from the beautiful kind of breaking the kind that frees what’s been waiting too long to be seen. It wasn’t just attraction. It was recognition. As if a part of me that had been sleeping finally woke up, blinking into the light. As if he reached in without trying and handed me back to myself.

That’s what love became in his hands. Not a losing. A finding. A becoming.

He was never afraid of love. He offered it without flinching, without conditions, without artifice. He loved the world as it was the way sunlight painted the corners of strangers’ faces, the way laughter lingered in empty streets, the quiet ways people revealed themselves without realizing. And when he loved me, it was with a clarity so rare it made everything else in my life feel suddenly out of focus.

His love had no guardrails. It didn’t hesitate. It didn’t retreat. It wrapped around me like warmth from a hearth I hadn’t known I needed. He made courage look easy, the way poets make beauty look accidental. And the rest of us still so unsure, still learning what it meant to be seen stood in awe.

When he looked at me, the edges of the world blurred. There was something sacred in the way his gaze held mine, as if time forgot to pass. He was taller than I expected, and his quiet confidence made me want to lean into him and run away all at once. His presence burned low and steady, like embers beneath skin. And God, how many times I thought about kissing him far more than I’d ever admit out loud.

I remember the dimples that only appeared when he smirked. That boyish, knowing smile that unspooled something inside me every time it flashed across his face. The day I saw them was the day I knew there would never be anyone else.

He was the kind of cool the world doesn’t make anymore. Effortless. Unforced. Everything shimmered around him like a heat haze in summer. I still dream of those nights, where he laughed under the streetlights and made even the dark feel golden. I still long for that rhythm, that pulse. A song I never stopped hearing, even after it ended.

He didn’t need to be loud. The city felt him anyway. He was every summer night rolled into a person, bright, wild, and over too soon. He made mischief look elegant. He made danger feel like poetry. He wasn’t someone you copied. He was someone you remembered, no matter how many years passed.

But it wasn’t just the joy he brought. It was what he stirred in me. Or maybe, what he revealed. A version of myself I hadn’t dared to be. With him, I softened without becoming small. I grew braver without needing sharpness. He never told me how to see the world. He just stood beside me, and the world unfolded itself willingly. Beautifully.

He was brilliant. Not in the academic sense, though he could outwit anyone. No, he was brilliant in the way he listened, in how he noticed what no one else did. He could hear what you never said. He could touch wounds without laying a finger on them. He understood the ache behind a laugh, the weight behind a glance. And because he saw the world that way, I began to see it too.

When he spoke, it was like the universe leaned closer. Even silence felt charged in his presence. Loving him was like reading your favorite book beneath starlight familiar, infinite, and impossible to explain to anyone who hadn’t felt it too.

His love was quiet, but it left no doubt. It lived in the way he listened. In the way he remembered. In the way he looked at me like I was a miracle he had waited lifetimes to find.

And even now, he makes me feel sixteen again. Breathless. Wordless. As though love has pressed itself into my ribs and made a home there. I can barely speak when he looks at me, as if all the words I’ve ever known forget their shapes. I still trip over my voice like someone with a crush that never faded. Because with him, it never did.

Some people don’t just pass through your life.

They etch themselves into it.

He didn’t just love me.

He rewrote me.

He moved through life as if joy were a secret only he remembered. He wasn’t defiant. He was free. Free in the way birds are free. Free in the way sunlight never asks permission to fall. There was gold in him not the glittering kind, but the kind that lives quietly under the skin. When he smiled, the day tilted toward him. When he laughed, time lingered.

Life with him never stood still. It pulsed. It danced. Even the dullest afternoons felt like stories I wanted to keep. And the nights felt like youth might never leave us.

He never tried to fix me. He didn’t look at my storms and try to cage them. He stepped into the center of them, calm as dawn. And there, in his stillness, my chaos began to breathe.

We lived like time had forgotten us. Wandering streets with no names. Sharing jokes that would sound like nonsense to anyone else. Laughing in a way that made the stars jealous. We didn’t chase happiness. It moved beside us, quiet and loyal.

There was that one day—my favorite one—when he took out a credit just so we could wander. No plan. No destination. Just us. Just the wind in our hair and the city at our feet. It was reckless and utterly unnecessary. And it remains the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. He loved like that. Boldly. Unapologetically. Without cost analysis. The kind of love that ruins you for anything more cautious.

When I told him I was leaving for another country, something in the air changed. But we never named it. We didn’t plan for goodbye. We just held tighter. Laughed louder. Slept less. We carved those final months into memory with the urgency of people trying to outrun an ending.

I don’t remember the goodbye. I only remember the sunlight on his face, the roar of our laughter in the street after renting that old motorcycle, the city spinning around us like it had fallen in love too. I remember waking up barefoot in a new place, drinking coffee on a balcony that belonged only to that moment. Only to us.

I remember football bets turned into flirtation. Small arguments softened by laughter. Tiny restaurants where we were strangers and somehow right at home. The bungalows. The caravans. The long roads and loud music and windows open to the sky. And I remember falling in love with my own city all over again, because he was there to light it from within.

He followed me everywhere. I followed him everywhere. And I never grew tired of him. Not once. I had always been someone who outgrew things quickly. Who chased sparks, then moved on when they flickered. But with him, the spark never dimmed. It only deepened. It warmed. It endured.

He is, and always will be, the most beautiful soul I have ever known. The kind of beauty that doesn’t fade. The kind that hushes the room. That quiets your thoughts. That makes everything else pale in comparison.

Even now, after all this time, my love has never wavered. My admiration remains unshaken. He is still the star in my sky.

So yes.

You were the love of my life.

It has always been you.

And you always will be.