Your eyes are unfair, honestly. They should come with a warning sign somewhere. Because every single time I look into them, my brain forgets how to function properly. One second I’m normal, the next I’m staring like someone who just discovered poetry for the first time. Your eyes carry entire universes in them— soft galaxies, sleepy midnights, the kind of warmth that makes people stay longer than they planned to. And it’s silly, really, how two tiny circles can ruin me completely. When you look at me, I suddenly understand why people write love songs, why old couples still hold hands, why the moon gets compared to someone’s face even when the moon did absolutely nothing to deserve that compliment. Your eyes laugh before your mouth does. They sparkle when you’re pretending not to smile, and narrow dramatically when you’re annoyed, which, unfortunately for me, still looks adorable. I think your eyes are secretly thieves. They stole my attention first, then my peace, then my ability to act cool around you. Now I trip over words, forget what I was saying, and stare at you like a confused golden retriever who just got called a good boy. And maybe love is exactly this— memorizing the shade of someone’s eyes like it’s your favorite place in the world. Because yours feel like home. A slightly chaotic, heart-racing, butterflies-everywhere kind of home… but home anyway.

Shawarma is literally one of the most romantic foods ever. Like imagine this — you’re standing under a random streetlight at 11:47 PM, holding a shawarma wrapped in suspiciously thin paper while the garlic sauce is fighting for its life. The person beside you says, “I’m not hungry,” and then takes the biggest bite known to humanity. Your hands are oily. The fries are falling out. Someone says “last bite” at least six times. And somehow… that’s love. Not candlelight dinners. Not roses. Just two people aggressively protecting their shawarma while also feeding each other dramatically like it’s a K-drama scene filmed outside a juice center. [i love shawarma like whenever we go out at night I want shawarma.. I haven't had shawarma for a week now I miss my shawarma.. don't worry abt my mental health y'll.. bcz I'm crazy half of the time and I'm hungry rn ]

The first date felt like a song playing softly from another room, familiar somehow, even before I knew the words. You sat across from me with nervous hands and careful smiles, and suddenly the world became smaller— just your laugh, my heartbeat, and the silence between us that somehow wasn’t awkward at all. The coffee went cold, time forgot to move, and streetlights painted gold on your face like the night itself wanted to remember you. I kept noticing little things— the way you looked away when you smiled too much, the way your voice softened when you said my name. And on the walk back home, with our shoulders brushing accidentally-on-purpose, I realized some people don’t feel new. They feel like a place your heart has been trying to return to for a very long time.

Two months. Sixty days of memories that somehow feel much bigger than time should allow. I still remember the beginning— the slightly awkward conversations, the pauses filled with nervous smiles, the way we were both trying to know each other slowly without saying too much too fast. And now look at us. Now your name sits naturally in the middle of my day. You’ve become the first person I want to tell things to— the funny little moments, the bad moods, the random thoughts at 2 a.m., the songs that suddenly remind me of you for no reason at all. Somewhere in these two months, you stopped feeling like someone “new.” You became comfort. The kind that sneaks up quietly. Like knowing your text will make me smile before I even open it. Like hearing your voice and feeling my whole day soften a little. Like missing you immediately after saying goodbye, even if it was only for a few hours. I think my favorite part has been the little things. The way we remember details about each other. The way conversations never really feel forced. The way silence feels peaceful instead of empty. The way you somehow make ordinary moments feel important enough to keep forever. Two months may not sound like much to people outside of us. But they don’t see how many emotions can fit into sixty days. The late-night talks. The laughing until breathing hurts. The tiny misunderstandings we fixed gently. The soft reassurance in your words. The excitement of seeing your notification appear. The comfort of knowing there’s someone out there thinking about me too. And maybe that’s what this is— not just a passing feeling, not just temporary excitement, but something steady slowly growing roots inside my heart. Because when I think about these two months, I don’t just think about time passing. I think about how life has felt warmer lately. How certain songs hit differently now. How even crowded places feel less lonely. How happiness has started arriving in smaller, softer ways— usually with your name attached to it. Two months, and somehow you already feel like a chapter I never want to finish.

It started on a hill that held the evening softly, where the wind carried unfinished thoughts and the sky looked too beautiful to belong to anyone. A bike stood nearby, still warm from the ride, while two helmets rested carelessly beside it like they already knew they’d stay a while. You pushed your glasses up while laughing at something small, and somehow that moment felt strangely familiar, like I had seen it before in a dream I forgot after waking up. There was nothing extraordinary happening. Just two people sitting too close to silence, watching city lights blink awake below them. But sometimes love doesn’t arrive loudly. Sometimes it comes disguised as comfort, as shared quietness, as the feeling of knowing someone before truly knowing them at all. And under that fading sky, with the cold breeze touching our skin and your voice mixing with the sound of distant traffic, I realized some people enter your life like a memory returning home.

The sky forgets its blue and remembers something deeper— a shade where thoughts soften and the world exhales. Streetlights bloom like quiet stars, not to replace the sky, but to remind us that light finds a way even after the sun leaves. Clouds drift like unspoken feelings, half heavy, half free— as if they too are learning how to let go. And somewhere in this stillness, life pauses… just enough for a heart to notice how beautiful in-between moments can be.

Happy Anniversary to the cutest people ever. 🤍 Sometimes I look at both of you and genuinely wonder how two people can still be this in love after all these years. The way you both care for each other so naturally, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, is honestly my favorite thing to witness. You both still have endless things to talk about every single day without ever getting bored of each other. Random stories, silly gossip, asking where the other person is every five minutes, sending each other things, calling each other 50+ times a day just to say the smallest things ever — and somehow it’s still adorable every single time. It’s the kind of love people write poems about without even realizing it. A love that feels safe, warm, loud, funny, dramatic over tiny things, and full of care in the smallest moments. The way dad remembers little things about mom. The way mom worries about dad over the tiniest details. The way you both argue and then talk normally five minutes later like nothing even happened. The way there’s always laughter somewhere in the house because of you two. Watching your love story growing up genuinely made me believe that real love exists. Not the perfect movie kind — but the real kind. The kind where two people choose each other every single day, over and over again. And honestly? I want a love like yours someday. A love where conversations never end, where comfort feels like home, where care comes naturally, and where even after years together, the first person you still want to call is each other. Thank you for showing me what love is supposed to feel like. Happy Anniversary to my forever favorite duo. 🤍

YOOO ME HAPPI TODAY, MY MAN TOLD HIS SIS ABOUT ME ABOUT "US"💗🥹💃💃 she was expecting something like this bcz few months back his mom found the gifts I gave him 😭💔and she was about to show his dad but his sis hide some of the stuff🥹😙. even though they both were not talking bcz of some sibling fights 🥲 SHE LOVED THE GIFTS I MADE FOR HIM😭💗..she's a girls girl fs bruhhh she understood the effort to made all those handmade gifts 🥹💗 ( tbh I have a bigg crush on my own boyfriend’s siso like bruhhh she's so pretty 🥹) AND SHE SUPPORTS MY IDEA OF GHAR JAMAI 🥹🥹🫶🏻.. OMGHH I'M SO HAPPI HAPPI 🥹🫶🏻