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At first, just another face in the crowd, mid, I said, nothing to be proud. But weeks went by, and something grew, a voice, a smile, a gaze so true. On [pickleball] courts, [the world] felt small, her laugh the reason I played at all. Brown eyes steady, calm and deep, a secret I knew I’d always keep. Different classes, [worlds apart], yet she carved a place inside my heart. I may never reach, may never hold, but her memory shines, quiet and bold. Not beauty alone, not looks defined, but the way she lingers in my mind. A fleeting crush, perhaps to fade, yet in my story, she’ll always stay.
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