Chapter 2: Love so Divine. - Her Birthday ! ❤️
Love so Divine - Her Birthday ❤️
January 23rd, 2025
My birthday. I usually kept it simple. Quiet.
Nothing dramatic. No grand expectations. Growing up in a middle-class Indian
household, birthdays were about warm home-cooked meals, maybe a few close
friends and cousins, and lots of blessings. But this birthday? This one was
different. Because it was hers.
But that day…Something changed.
It started like any other
morning. I woke up, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and saw the clock blinking 8:45
AM. That time—random to most—was the beginning of everything for me. Alexa
was playing Hanuman Chalisa, just like it did every day as me and Maa
listens to it. It wasn’t just background music. It was prayer. Discipline.
That was my rhythm. My
peace. My promise.
But what unfolded after
that morning wasn’t ordinary.
It wasn’t even just a birthday anymore. It became the day God reminded me that signs are real,
She had been counting down since New Year’s.
Every day—a message, a meme, a gentle nudge. Like she was more excited than me.
She made it feel like something worth celebrating, even though I had just come
out of gallbladder surgery less than two weeks before. That surgery shook me more
than I expected. Physically, it left me fragile. But emotionally, it uncovered
wounds I didn’t know were still healing. I was recovering. Physically weak,
emotionally drained. Still on a strict diet. My energy was low. But she didn’t
see any of that as a reason to hold back.
She made a plan that we’ll celebrate one day before at 00:01 so I start this year with her and that I can cut cake at home as well. so I did the same and On 22nd evening, just like everyday, shared our ritual: outfit updates. Videos. Selfies. “How do I look?” texts.
I wore all black. My Batman look. Black
sneakers. Black G-Shock. Davidoff Cool Water with a hint of the scent she said
reminded her of me. I wanted her to know it was me from the moment I
walked in—not just by sight, but by scent, by soul. She arrived at the hotel
before me. Wanted to get ready. Wanted me to be the first to see the Black dress she’d saved just for this night. A dress she said she’d wear for her “forever.”
I got there around 8 PM. The room was simple.
No balloons. No lights. Just her. And her eyes lit up like it was Diwali. We
sat close. Talked. Laughed. Watched random TV, not because we were interested,
but because it made the silence feel full. Full of us. It felt like a world
within four walls. Safe, sacred.
I could see it in her eyes.
Something was building.
And at exactly midnight, she disappeared into the bathroom. And At 11:59 PM, when she came out, she was wearing that black dress. I forgot how to breathe. She laughed at my face—I’m sure my jaw dropped. she leaned in and whispered: "Happy Birthday, My Batman."
That was what she had written on the cake. The
only thing I could eat. She made sure of that. She remembered the dietary
restrictions, the medications, everything. She didn’t just show up. She paid
attention. And then she gave me a challenge: "Your gift is hidden. Find
it. 'And I was like apart from you?"
She set up her phone to record, capturing the
moment like she always did.
It took 2 seconds.
I saw her glance. Saw the setup. The angle. "The almirah," I said. She opened it. And that’s when the real gift hit me. A bouquet—black and yellow roses. Our colors. Batman and Catwoman. A new wallet. A puzzle piece. A sketchbook. A handwritten letter. A pair of white sneakers. Each gift had meaning. Symbolism. Intention. She used to say I am her “Everything, Friend, Best Friend, Lover, Boyfriend.
She didn’t just give me presents. She gave me
pieces of herself. "Start this year light," she whispered. "Start
clean."
I stood frozen. Not because of the stuff. But
because for the first time in 29 years, someone saw me. Completely. We
stayed up all night. Took pictures. Made videos. Held hands like we were
already old souls. And in that quiet room—no noise, no show, no outsiders—she
gave me the kind of birthday I didn’t even know I could dream of. Not because
of the cake. Not because of the black dress. But because for the first time—
I felt chosen. And maybe that’s what real love is. Not
loud. Not staged. Just someone showing up when you least expect it, and saying:
"Here. This is for you. Because you matter. Because I see you. Because
you’re mine.
That night became my anchor. But anchors can
become weights when the ship sails on without them. And now, three months
later, I still hold onto the memory. Not to suffer, but to honour it. To remind
myself what love can look like. What I am capable of giving. And
what I will never settle for less than again.
She taught me how to receive. How to be
vulnerable without shame. How to feel without fear. That in itself was divine.
And yet, she left. Not in body. But in effort. In energy. In silence. And
that’s when God stepped in again. Not to erase her, but to restore me.
He reminded me of my own worth. Of the child
who used to believe in Shri Rama, in honor, in love that endures. He reminded
me that faith is not just about believing in someone else. It’s about believing
that even in loss, you are being led. Guided. Sometimes, God doesn’t remove
people from your life to hurt you. He removes them to save you. To protect what
you’re becoming.
To make space for what is sacred. And now, I
walk with that quiet faith. With the memory of a black dress and a Batman cake,
but with eyes fixed on the future. Because love isn’t something you chase. It’s
something that finds you when you’re whole enough to receive it without needing
it to complete you.
And I’m not there yet. But I’m getting close.
Step by step. Prayer by prayer. Sign by sign.
And if one day she comes back, not as a
fantasy, but as a partner ready to choose me publicly, permanently,
purposefully—then maybe this story will continue.
But if not? Then this was just Chapter 2.
And that is enough. Because sometimes, the chapters don’t lead to a forever love story. Sometimes, it leads you
back to yourself.
To God.
To the kind of love that never leaves. The kind that says: "When no one else is there—I am. Like Gods"
Chapter 3: Everything Happens on Time. On Saturday 🧿🙏🏻 Till Then Keep Praying ❤️
Do notice the numbers on my blogs 🫶🏻
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