I Think I'm In Love...Again.

This is not your average love story, I’m not going to tell you that we met in the library or at a party because we’d been in each other’s lives for way longer than that, I’m not going to tell you that I felt butterflies when our eyes met because the butterflies were still caterpillars. Our love is much slower than that, much more unusual. My soulmate has always been a part of me. Somewhere close to my heart keeping my fire burning.

We’d been in each other’s lives for years, always circling the same spaces and breathing the same air but never actually meeting. Or maybe we had— half glances, faint impressions, the kind of knowing you only recognize later. And when we eventually met, it felt less like a beginning and more like a quiet continuation of a story we’d both been telling.

They were a friend to a friend, and one afternoon, while I was talking to her, I finally noticed their presence. There Imah was—quiet, almost hiding, like they were afraid people might see too much if they looked too closely. We spoke, their voice quiet—meek. It wasn’t a lot,but it was just enough to open the door. The door to a life we had no idea of.

The next time we spoke, it was because of someone else—someone I should never have given my heart to. They warned me, gently, firmly, and for the first time I heard their voice in full sentences, steady and certain. I didn’t listen. I went ahead, and when the inevitable happened, when my heart finally cracked, Imah was there again. Holding me together without knowing it.

We talked a lot, laughed about the ruins of my mistake, and from that moment Imah was everywhere. No longer hidden to my eyes. She was always so close, but still too far. I began to search for her in every crowd, like my eyes had been trained to find only her. A year passed like that—our closeness folding and unfolding, drifting and returning—until…

One day, out of nowhere, I texted her. I can’t explain why. My heart called out for her and I listened. We started talking again. The conversations were short, her replies curt—still awkward, still hidden. And then we had the conversation.

It changed everything. Slowly, there were voice notes and corny jokes, a warmth slipping through the cracks. Imah was becoming, and I was there to witness it. Two years ago, one cold day in July, I cried to her and she cried to me, and without knowing it, we had crossed into something deeper. We had become kindred.

Then life got busy. Another break. I was too sure we’d never be the same after this one, too much had changed. The silence between us felt heavier this time, like distance had won for good. But I should have known better—what we had wasn’t just a bond. We were intertwined.

A new year began, and right on the dot, there it was: “Happy New Year, bitch.” Just like that, a new page of our book opened—we were back. Like we never even left.

There was a new understanding between us. There were battles we’d never imagined. We gave a name to the demon we were fighting then: “nightmare child.” At first it was just a funny joke, something to laugh about, but it became our reality. We fought that demon together. Some days it was easy, other days… well, we were left with victory scars.

The lines started to blur; the light I saw her in began to change colors. And then I saw her in person again. It was awkward—it's always strange when the person you've been texting becomes the person you're obsessed with. The tension was thick, my feelings thicker.

I told her how I felt. She said she felt the same. We tried to laugh it off, to pretend it didn’t matter—“this doesn’t change anything.” Only it did. It changed everything. Our conversations grew shorter, both of us too afraid—too afraid to say the wrong thing, too afraid to cross a line.

I felt her drifting, slipping away, and I couldn’t bear to lose her. So I revoked my feelings, pushed them down, and found someone else to fill her space. It wasn’t the same, not even close, but at least I still had her. I kept her closer than ever. No letting go.

I tried not to speak about it, but it was always there. Lurking. It was killing me so I caved. I told her I missed her. She laughed it off. I said it again. This time, she ignored it. She didn’t say anything, but I heard her loud and clear. I sat with it, that quiet refusal, the ache of wanting more than she could give.

And still, I couldn’t let go.

‘‘Happy New Year Imah’’

Another year had gone. We checked-in like lovers drifted from each other, sometimes there were weeks of silence and other times, I’d start empty conversations just to hear her voice. I had already let go of the fantasy of our together. We were back to how it was before the lines blurred, and I took what she gave me in stride.

She texted on my birthday, called my soul beautiful. The soul she had built with me, the soul that belonged to her wholly. She was the beautiful part of my soul and she didn’t even know it.

March, 2025.

One story reply, One question.

‘‘How are you?’’

We had found our rhythm again, it was nothing like the other times. It was new, it felt like a warm hug after a long day. A smile from across the room. We talked about everything. Old conversations, ‘‘Nightmare child’’, Music, Art, God, Love. We never ran out of things to talk about, hours became days, days became weeks, weeks became two months. She’s still here, it never withered.

Somewhere in the middle of all the bliss, Kamu died, and barely a day after, so did Annie. It got really dark. Nightmare child never left for too long but Imah was there. Holding my hand through it all, the way I would hold hers later. Home was with her, and I never wanted to leave.

Months have gone by since that dark month, we’ve had some really bad days. We still have them. Days where the world gets too loud and all we have is the serenity in each other. I think being here for Imah is one of my purposes in life and man I really hope she thinks so too. We talk about it a lot how we’re the same person and two different people at the same time—One coin, two sides.

Things had been going really well, we spent days moving from topic to topic, laughing till our bellies hurt, I’ve probably not met a lot of people but the way Imah makes me laugh? Nobody measures.

Things had been going well.

Something happened — I made a foolish mistake, a lackadaisical slip that could have potentially harmed me and the life I’ve been building. I was too lax, too unserious, and I slipped.

I felt very exposed and ashamed. Imah caught me. She didn't catch me loudly, she caught me quietly, like it was nothing to her, just pure instinct. It’s the most vulnerable I’d been with her in person, but she didn’t pay any mind to it.

While I was panicking and shaking, She steadied me. She held my hand even though it’s against her nature, smiled like she’d known exactly how frightened I was, and told the most inappropriate jokes until I stopped shaking and could breathe again.

That night I sat in my room smiling at my phone at her response to me thanking her, and for the first time I knew with absolute clarity — I am utterly and irrevocably in love with Imah. And truly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So, like I said this is not your average love story. There was no lightning bolt, no sudden butterflies, no neat beginning to point to. It was slower than that, stranger than that—two lives brushing against each other until they finally held on.

With Imah, love has never been loud. It’s been quiet laughter in the ruins, hands reaching out in the dark, inappropriate jokes at the edge of panic. It’s been demons fought together, grief shared, silences survived. It’s been home.

And so here I am, in love again. Not the kind you’ll find in storybooks, or the kind where someone sweeps you up your feet, and it’s not my typical ‘Orente Love’

This is the kind of love that feels like a miracle, one that makes me grateful simply for her being—for the way she lives in my mind and lingers in my soul.

Whatever our souls are made of, hers and mine are the same.

I love you my Nana, I’m grateful everyday for the gift of you. I can’t wait to do life with you and watch you become everything you want to be, my podcast and my life would be boring and a little bit empty without your stupid laugh, evil thoughts and unmatched understanding of my soul. You really are my soulmate and you're the most beautiful girl.

Bye, It's Hachi.