You do not choose the moment someone walks into your life. And you definitely do not choose what they do to you when they arrive.
His name was Felix.
I noticed him the way you notice something that does not quite fit the background not loudly, not all at once, but in a way that makes you look twice without meaning to. He was Twenty one. Easy in the way he moved. Easy in the way he talked to people. Not the kind of easy that comes from not caring the kind that comes from being genuinely comfortable in your own skin. Like he had already made peace with himself and had enough left over to offer everyone around him.
I watched him from a distance for longer than I would ever admit.
He helped people. That was the first thing I noticed. Not in a showy way, not in a way that asked for applause. He just helped. If someone missed a class, Felix had notes ready. If someone was short at the canteen, Felix was already reaching into his pocket. He was the kind of person who made the people around him feel like they were not alone, and in a place as overwhelming as college, that was not a small thing.
I liked his personality before I even knew his name.
We officially met through a mutual connection his friend Eric, a quiet, dark, gentle guy who I would later discover had his own quiet feelings for me. But that story belongs to another chapter. What matters here is that the day I properly spoke to Felix, my carefully organized world shifted without my permission.
We got to talking about academics I kept it academic on purpose, safe territory, nothing that could be misread. But Felix was easy to talk to in a way that made safety feel unnecessary. He listened when I spoke. Not the kind of listening where someone waits for you to finish so they can say their thing the kind where you can feel that your words are actually landing somewhere.
When he offered to help me in the courses I was struggling with, I said yes before my wall could talk me out of it.
That evening changed something.
We sat together doing assignments and somewhere between chemistry formulas and the end of the day, I laughed, Not politely,not the small controlled laugh I had perfected for social situations. I laughed uncontrollably, the kind that bends you forward and makes your eyes water, the kind that comes from somewhere real. And when the laughter settled, I realized I had somehow ended up in his arms I had hugged him without deciding to.
I pulled back immediately. My whole body flooded with embarrassment.
What are you doing, Jasmine? Who are you right now?
But Felix did not laugh at me. He did not make it strange. He just held on a moment longer than expected, and in that moment I felt something I had no name for. Something warm. Something terrifying.
I pulled away and told myself it meant nothing.
I told myself that for a very long time.
Then one day I walked into class late, and as my lecturer asked me to stand and introduce myself to the room, Felix walked through the door at that exact moment and I forgot every word I had ever known. I forgot where I was. I forgot the lecturer. I forgot the class staring at me. My body moved before my mind could stop it and I crossed the room and hugged him right there in front of everyone.
The class erupted. Even the lecturer smiled.
I was mortified. But even through the embarrassment, I noticed something. The moment my arms were around him, I had felt completely at peace.
That scared me more than anything.
Felix showed up later with oranges my favourite, and I still do not know how he knew to apologise for distracting me. We laughed about it. We talked about school. He invited me to study at his place and immediately, like a cold wind through a warm room, I heard it.
Men will stain your white.
I told him I was not comfortable. He did not push. He simply said we could study at school instead and smiled like it was nothing. Like my fear had not just shown itself and he had simply chosen not to make it a big deal.
That was the moment I think I started to fall.
Not dramatically. Not all at once.
Just quietly. The way the tide comes in.