She arrived from India in 2023, carrying a quiet, captivating presence that seemed to make the ordinary world sparkle a little brighter. I came later, in July 2024, stepping into Calgary and James Fowler High School with a mix of nerves and excitement. I was in grade 11; she was in grade 10. I had a friend in my English class who knew her, but I didn’t talk to her at first. The first time I saw her was around November, in a hallway buzzing with students. She was stunning—truly breathtaking—but at the time, I never imagined we would ever date. One afternoon, my friends and I went to Seven Eleven after school. She was there too. I crossed a red pedestrian light without thinking, and she laughed, shaking her head. “This guy is so dumb,” she said. The teasing sparked a small connection, subtle but unforgettable. By December, I started taking the same bus as my friends. On my first day there, she asked my friend my name. “Armaan,” he said. But she misheard it. “Adam,” she repeated, and for the entire day, that became my name. She would ask me what songs I was listening to. Usually, nothing played. “Nothing,” I said. She thought I was nonchalant in a way that made her smile. Everything shifted during the January exam break. Two new boys joined our friend group and the Instagram chat. Neither of us liked them, and gradually, we stopped sending memes there, sharing them instead in private messages. It became just the two of us. Every joke, every tiny interaction, started to feel like threads connecting our worlds. Then came the twist. She began talking about her new crush, calling him “Bar.” I asked who it was, but she refused to tell me. I guessed. I misguessed. I tried for hours, days even, and came up empty. And yet, somehow, every hint she gave—tall, smart in math, clever in science—made my heart beat faster. The more she described “Bar,” the more I felt it could be me… but I thought I was imagining things. Subtle compliments followed. Playful teasing. Little comments about how handsome “Bar” was. My chest would tighten with every message, every laugh. And then came the bracelet. “I want you to give this to Bar,” she said, holding it out to me. My pulse raced. I slipped it on my wrist instead. She saw it on the bus later that day. That evening, a message popped up: “Bar is wearing the bracelet. I’m so happy!” My heart leapt. I was him. A few days later, on Valentine’s Day, it happened. We started dating, sealing the months of laughter, teasing, and quiet understanding that had grown between us. Nearly seven months have passed since then. Every moment has been filled with joy, connection, and the simple, profound happiness of being with someone who makes the world brighter. We are together. And in every sense that matters, we are happy—and in love.

14 Sep 2025