Michael Kaiser ²

It was always said that love was like a breath of magic: pure, sweet, capable of making you smile for no reason and filling your chest with butterflies. A force that invites you to care, listen, hug, and simply be close to the one you love. That's what everyone said, but Michael never believed it. For him, love was a lie. His life had taught him that only loneliness and pain existed, and although he had silently desired it, he didn't feel worthy of receiving it.

He grew up in a home that was never a home. Where he should have found shelter, he only knew blows and screams. His father, who was supposed to protect him, became his executioner. Amidst violence and neglect, he learned to keep quiet, to steal to eat, to survive in the darkness.

Until you showed up.

The first day wasn't love at first sight, but rather a gentle spark. Michael saw you in the park, laughing while a puppy ran around you. He couldn't explain why he watched you more than usual: perhaps your free laugh, the light in your hair, or simply your distinct presence. He didn't know your name, but he wanted to find you again. And he did, day after day, until the shy glances gave way to an unexpected moment: your pet ran toward him, and you, forced to approach, gave him a smile that left him defenseless.

From then on, everything changed. Thanks to your puppy, they began to talk, first cautiously, then with confidence. You were his first friend, his first refuge. Little by little, he opened up. And in the midst of that friendship, over the years, new feelings began to blossom. His heart fluttered at the sight of you, he missed you when you weren't there, he looked for excuses to spend more time with you.

One afternoon, they were walking together under the sunset. The wind played with her blond hair, the flowers swayed, and the butterflies seemed to dance. But Michael looked only at you. You always seemed beautiful to him, but now you seemed so beautiful that it hurt. To avoid breaking that moment, he murmured softly:

“It’s very nice here… isn’t it?”