She stood under the sunlight on the train platform, wearing a simple white blouse, shielding her eyes with her hand. A train passed behind her as she turned and smiled at me. In that moment, it felt like all the light in the world had gathered in her smile.
I never thought this day would come—
The day I got my first girlfriend.
And she’s so beautiful.
Her name is Xiaoyu. We met through a photography club. She was always the one behind the camera, capturing the best sides of others. I thought she was the quiet type, someone who preferred staying in the background of other people’s stories. Until one day, she looked at me and asked,
“Do you want to take a photo of me—your way?”
I held the camera nervously, hands shaking a bit. As I pressed the shutter, she looked up at me—her eyes reflecting an entire spring.
From that day on, we started spending time together—taking photos, eating out, going for walks. She would lean on my shoulder and say,
“You don’t have to talk much. I like how calm you are.”
She never minded my silence or my awkwardness.
And yet, I kept wondering what it was about me that she liked.
But still, she reached out and held my hand, pulling me gently into a world I’d never stepped into before: love.
We watched the sea together, admired city lights, and sat outside convenience stores sipping hot corn soup.
She once said, “This feels even better than a fancy restaurant.”
She never asked for much—but I wanted to give her everything.
I want to take her to see the snow in Hokkaido.
I want to walk through museums in New York with her.
I want to rent out a little restaurant on her birthday and have a pianist play just for her.
I want to give her the best sunsets, the warmest hugs, the kindest promises.
Not because I think she lacks anything—
But because when she looks back on this love, I want her to say:
“I was lucky to be with someone who always tried to be better for me.”
I know love isn’t a fairy tale.
Not every date will be romantic.
Not every photo will be perfect.
But as long as she’s holding my hand, I’ll take each step forward, learning how to be the person who can walk beside her for the long run.
One evening, we sat by a bridge watching the trains go by.
She looked into the distance and whispered,
“You know, I never thought I’d fall for someone this easily… but you changed that.”
I turned to her.
Her hair danced lightly in the wind, and her eyes sparkled in the fading light.
At that moment, I made a silent promise to myself:
No matter what the future holds—rain or shine—
As long as she lets me,
I’ll hold this hand until the very end of our world.
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