I remember from the very beginning that you were a good listener.

You listened without judging, as if your first intention was to understand. not to respond. not to correct. not to impress.

I loved that. I respected it deeply.

We live in a world where everyone wants to speak, to consume attention, to take space without offering it back. listening felt rare. it felt human.

That was the first sign.

But that alone was not what set you apart.

Almost every girl I met had something beautiful in her. some even had the potential to make something real happen. but somewhere in the middle, something would break. something naive. something rushed. something forced.

Many tried so hard to make me love them.

But at that time, I hated myself. and when you hate yourself, it is difficult to see anyone as a partner. I was not walking around wondering who would become my girlfriend. my deepest belief was that I would die alone.

Love requires you to love yourself first. it requires you to fight your shadows. to heal. and back then, I was still dressing over an open wound.

Even if I had met the perfect woman, even if it were Angelina Jolie, I would not have been able to love her. because loving requires something I did not have yet.

That is another reason I was running from you. avoiding you more carefully than anyone else. treating you more gently.

Because somewhere deep inside, I knew I wanted you in my life. but I believed the time was not right. I needed to bring my head down from the clouds and place it on the ground.

What set you apart was this.

You did not try to make me love you. You did not force the process. You did not hint loudly.

You were not there to claim me.

There were moments where you simply wanted to help me. moments where you genuinely wished me well. moments where you wanted to see the wounds without demanding access to them.

You respected the boundaries I placed. you never said, let me heal you.

Others had said that from the very beginning. they asked what I suffered from so they could fix it. but that was never my language.

You did not confess quickly. it took you three years.

And that is exactly what sets you apart.

Others said I love you on the first day. and inside myself, I would think, I do not want someone who says they love me. I want someone who stays.

I did not need to be loved loudly. I needed to be saved quietly.

The monster inside me did not respond to words. it responded to endurance.

I needed someone to pull me out of the hole I was trapped in. not someone to promise affection.

I needed someone who would remain.

My love language was staying.

And you were the only one who learned how to do it.