wrong time right person

Love is not only about hearts, it is also about timing. There are moments in life when we meet someone who feels like the missing piece of our soul. The connection is undeniable, the intimacy almost sacred, and yet the world around us builds invisible walls. Society, circumstances, and time itself conspire to remind us that love is a game with its own rules and time. To meet the right person at the wrong time shows that love is not only about union, but also about the unfinished chapters that remain open, where every page opens a new wound that echoes your name. 

I once believed I was living the perfect moment with the perfect person. Our eyes carried connection, a brightness that only we could understand. But just as I tried to hold on, I realized I was burning my hands with the friction of the rope, desperately clinging to time that had already slipped away. It was then that a white rabbit appeared in my imagination, whispering that my time was running out. I refused to believe it, I held on to promises like “ I  will never leave you”, but promises dissolve into silence. Time, relentless and merciless , flew past us. Maybe I am too harsh. Maybe it truly was impossible. Yet why does it feel as if a fragment of my soul is missing? Why does fate still pull me back toward what I cannot have? There is a certain intimacy between two souls that makes their eyes shine, but when pain enters, even the brightest gaze cannot bear to meet each other.

Everything, perhaps, is an illusion, a fragile frame that convinces us that thinking is more important than feeling. But today I speak not to overthink my emotions, but to free them. I speak so that you too do not have to silence your heart beneath the weight of logic. I write to give myself permission to feel. I write because I need a place to put everything I cannot give you. I only wanted my life to be filled with your energy. I only wanted to have you forever. And I couldn’t. We couldn’t. Time was not enough for us. And now I am here, asking myself what to do with all this that I feel. and it hurts me, because as the principito said: 'you will never find the same person twice, not even in the same person'. 

You were the saddest and most beautiful way that life had to tell me that you can't have everything. I write because I know our souls still search for each other in the silence of the night. I write so that the prejudices of society, the judgments of others, and the invisible chains of expectation may step aside. I write because I still long for one last reunion, one last smile, one last call, one last conversation, one last gaze. And as the last act of love we both separated, and I closed the door on you but left a window open, because no goodbye hurts as much as the one you say when you don't want to leave. because in the end, the sun cannot exist without the moon, just as love cannot exist without longing. And perhaps that is the cruel beauty of it all: that even when time betrays us, connection remains eternal. 

So I speak today to remind myself, and perhaps to remind you that even if the world insists on separation, the red thread of fate continues to pull us together. And sometimes the most powerful love stories are not those that end in union, but those that remain unfinished. Because I hold on to the belief that this was not a final ending, but only a pause in the story. an unfinished sentence with not a period, but a semicolon. where every unfinished page carries the weight of what could have been. and if you are not the love of my life I will say that I chose the wrong life but not the wrong love.