jiyaXwriters
Some stories are written
before they are lived.
She wrote his name in quiet pages,
in years they had already shared in passing.
They knew each other-
in conversations, in fleeting smiles,
in stadium lights and familiar names.
And somewhere in between,
she wrote him anonymous letters
words she thought he would never read,
yet somehow... lived by.
They kept him grounded,
through innings, through noise, through everything he became.
But he never knew
she was the one behind them.
Until one day
he finally reads every page,
and realizes...
the strength he carried,
the calm he never questioned,
the version of himself he grew into
had always been written by her.