When I Saw You

By Roshan Tara

I didn’t believe in love at first sight.

Not in books.

Not in movies.

Not in real life.

I used to roll my eyes when characters fell too fast

like, how can a heart be so reckless?

How can someone mean everything when you know nothing about them?

Then you walked into the room.

And suddenly…

I forgot how to breathe.

You weren’t even looking at me.

You were just laughing at something someone said.

But God, that laugh

it hit me like music I’d known in another life.

You tucked your hand through your hair

and it was like the world slowed down

just so I wouldn’t miss it.

My chest ached. Literally ached.

Like my ribs were too small to hold whatever had just cracked open inside me.

I didn’t fall for you.

I collapsed.

From that moment,

you weren’t just someone I saw

you became the background of every thought.

The first thing I looked for when I entered a room.

The reason I stayed longer in hallways,

took detours I didn’t need to take,

laughed louder in hopes you'd turn your head.

I started drinking my coffee the way you liked yours.

Started reading the books you posted about,

even if I didn’t understand them.

Listened to your favorite songs on repeat

just to hear what you heard.

I knew how you smiled when you were genuinely happy

like your eyes forgot to blink.

I knew how you smiled when you were pretending

tight, polite, almost painful.

And I saw the one you saved for yourself when no one was watching

soft. Tired. Like you were carrying the whole world.

I watched.

And watched.

And waited.

Every part of me was filled with you,

and yet,

you didn’t know.

You smiled at me once in a crowded room,

and I lived off that for weeks.

I re-played it in my head like it was a scene from a film

I’d paid to see again and again.

But I never said a word.

Because deep down, I knew

you didn’t feel what I felt.

And I couldn’t risk losing

the pieces of you I had.

So I loved you quietly.

Desperately.

Fully.

And maybe that’s what first love really is

not fireworks or grand confessions

but standing still in the middle of a storm

and letting it flood through you

without ever letting it show.

By Roshan Tara