Just to see You

This morning was chaos in the most ridiculous, beautiful way.

I woke up early, got dressed, and stood by the window for a moment just to look at the park, calm, quiet, pretending the world wasn’t about to stress me. Then I got into my car, drove to the station like I always do, thinking I’d buy my ticket last-minute. You know me; I never buy it the night before because… cancellations. Life.

I walked toward the platform, trying to buy the ticket for 7:00am, and that’s when I saw it:

Cancelled.

I blinked. Refreshed the screen.

Still cancelled.

My heart dropped straight into my stomach.

I checked the next station and saw it was not cancelled.

I didn’t even think twice. I just moved.

Ran to my car, unsure if I would make it to the next station. I had 20 minutes for a 26-minute journey.

I drove down like a madwoman, parked, and literally ran from the parking lot to the train station. When I say ran, I mean RAN. I was panting like someone chased me, my legs were burning, my chest was on fire, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. Through every flight of stairs. Stopping meant missing that train

But here’s the truth:

Even if I missed that train, I would’ve driven to the next stop.

And the next.

And the next.

All the way to You if I had to.

There was no version of today where I didn’t see you.

None.

I’ve been waiting for this moment for two weeks. Counting down, pretending like I wasn’t. Missing you today? Yeah… that wasn’t happening. Not in this lifetime.

If it meant driving for three hours, I would’ve done it.

If it meant standing, rushing, sweating, I would’ve done it.

Just to see you.

And yes, I lied that I wasn’t coming in,

sent pictures as “proof,”

hoping you wouldn’t realise what I was actually doing 

But honestly?

That’s how much I wanted today.

How much I wanted this.

How much I wanted you.

And here’s the funniest part:

While I was rushing through all this madness, heart racing, legs shaking, hair flying everywhere, there was a tiny voice in my head whispering:

“Abii… calm down. He won’t even realise how much you ran.”

But another voice 

the one I don’t always admit out loud 

said:

“He’s worth the rush.”

And that part?

I don’t say it often. Not even to myself.

Because the truth is:

You don’t run like this for everyone.

You don’t rearrange your morning, your energy, your heartbeat…

for just anyone.

You only run like this for the one who makes you feel something.

The one whose presence softens you and winds you at the same time.

The one who pulls you in without trying.

You.

And when I finally sat down on this train, breathing hard, chest still beating like war drums, I realised something:

I wasn’t embarrassed about any of it.

Not the rushing.

Not the running.

Not the “Abii, what are you doing?” moments.

I loved every moment of it

Because it’s real.

Because it’s me.

Because it’s us 

in the only language we seem to understand:

Quiet effort.

Silent stubbornness.

Showing up even when we pretend we won’t.

I don’t know how today will feel.

I don’t know how I’ll look at you.

I don’t know how you’ll look at me.

But I do know this:

I’m on this train.

I’m coming.

I’m choosing today.

I’m choosing you 

in my soft, subtle, “don’t-read-too-much-into-it” way.

And when I finally see you?

Even if it’s just five seconds 

or several stolen glances,

a smile we both pretend isn’t a smile 

It will be enough.

It will be everything.

Because this morning 

the rushing, the running, the madness 

All of it had one ending.

YOU.

With Love,

Abii