Blue Orchids
By April 2023, talking to him had become normal.
Not the kind of normal you notice.
The dangerous kind.
The kind where you don't realize how important someone has become until you imagine your day without them.
A few days before his birthday, he told me he was going out of town and wanted to celebrate early.
He mentioned there would be a party later.
But before that, he wanted to meet me at a cafe.
Simple enough.
At least, that's what I thought.
When I told my friends about it, they immediately started teasing me.
"That's a date."
"It's obviously a date."
"He's taking you on a date."
I rolled my eyes and ignored all of them.
In my defense, I genuinely had no idea.
He had even told me what he was planning to wear.
A white shirt.
Black pants.
And somehow, even after that, I still didn't have the slightest idea he was planning something special.
Looking back, I have no explanation for how oblivious I was.
Maybe I was just too nervous.
After all, this wasn't another text conversation.
This was the first time I was meeting him in person after months of talking every single day.
As the day got closer, my anxiety only grew.
I must have changed my outfit a hundred times.
My entire room looked like a clothing store had exploded inside it.
I kept sending pictures to my friends, asking the same question over and over again.
"What should I wear?"
After trying almost everything in my wardrobe, I finally settled on a simple top and white denim jeans.
Nothing too revealing.
Nothing too flashy.
Just something that felt like me.
I straightened my hair, skipped the heavy makeup, and decided to show up exactly as I was.
Once I was ready, I texted him.
"I'm leaving."
I had a gift with me too.
A dark blue t-shirt.
His favorite color.
I remember feeling strangely nervous while walking into the cafe.
Not because I expected anything extraordinary.
Just because meeting someone in real life feels different after knowing them through a screen for so long.
Then I saw him.
And suddenly, I understood why my friends had been laughing.
Because this wasn't just a casual meet-up.
Not even close.
The first surprise was the flowers.
A huge bouquet of blue orchids.
I don't think anyone had ever given me flowers before.
At least not like that.
Not thoughtfully.
Not intentionally.
Not because they wanted to see my reaction.
I remember staring at them, completely speechless.
Then came the second surprise.
A Taylor Swift t-shirt.
Not just any t-shirt.
One printed with lyrics from Blank Space.
And on it was the nickname he had given me.
Kaira.
I don't know how to explain what that felt like.
There's something incredibly special about realizing someone has been paying attention.
Not just listening.
Remembering.
The things you mention casually.
The things you don't expect anyone to remember.
He remembered all of it.
And then came the third surprise.
The one that completely stole my heart.
A cookie.
A simple cookie.
Made by him.
With his own hands.
Out of everything he gave me that day, that might have been my favorite.
Because it wasn't bought.
It wasn't ordered.
It wasn't convenient.
It took effort.
And somehow, effort always means more.
By that point, I was already overwhelmed.
I thought the surprises were over.
I was wrong.
Very wrong.
Later, during the birthday celebration, something happened that I still struggle to think about without smiling.
When it was time to leave for what I thought was his birthday party, he asked me to get into his car.
I was completely confused.
At that point, I had stopped trying to guess what was happening.
Then he pulled out a guitar.
And I immediately got nervous again.
So nervous that it must have been written all over my face.
He noticed instantly and laughed.
"Hey, don't worry. It's not a proposal. Relax."
That somehow made me even more nervous.
But I got into the car anyway.
A few moments later, he picked up the guitar and started playing.
At first, I didn't understand what song it was.
Then the melody clicked.
Taylor Swift.
Love Story.
My favorite song.
He had learned the chords himself.
Just for me.
For a second, I just sat there staring at him.
Trying to process the fact that someone had spent their time learning my favorite song simply because it mattered to me.
And that's when I started crying.
Actual tears.
Not graceful movie tears.
Just pure emotion.
Because nobody had ever made me feel that special before.
Nobody had ever paid attention to the little things the way he did.
Nobody had ever looked at the details and decided they were worth remembering.
That day wasn't important because of the flowers.
Or the gifts.
Or even the guitar.
It was important because for the first time, I felt chosen.
And maybe that's why it became one of my favorite memories.
Because years later, after all the breakups, the mistakes, the distance, and the confusion...
I still remember the boy with the crooked teeth standing there with blue orchids in his hands.
Looking at me as if I was someone worth celebrating.
And for a little while, I didn't question it.
I just believed him.
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