When my mother passed away, I realized how fragile and short life truly is. I was still so young, and suddenly the world felt bigger, lonelier. Every birthday, every achievement, every small joy since then carried the same quiet thought: I wish she were here to see this.
But more than anything, I wish she could be here the day I finally meet the man who becomes my husband. Because deep in my heart, I know that’s what I long for the most—not riches, not perfection, not a storybook romance—but a real, steady, gentle love. A man who will sit beside me at the end of a hard day, who will laugh with me over the little things, who will stay when life gets heavy.
Sometimes, it feels impossible. I’ve had nights when I wondered if love was only meant for other people. But then life surprises you. One evening, I stumbled across an old photo of my childhood soccer team, and among the faded faces was someone I’d just met as an adult. At that moment, I realized something powerful: love has a way of circling back to us, even when we don’t expect it.
Maybe your story isn’t written yet. Maybe the person meant for you is already closer than you think. That’s the beauty of love—it can find us in the most unexpected ways, no matter our past or our pain.
So I keep believing. I keep waiting. I keep hoping. Because someday, I will find him. And so will you.
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