I’m Not Searching for Her, I’m Waiting to Cross Paths

They say you have to try.

Try harder.

Try everywhere.

Search for her in clubs, cafés, apps, friend circles, airports, bookstores, even in the unlikeliest places. They say she won’t come knocking at your door. She won’t find you. You have to find her.

But here’s the truth—

I don’t know where to go.

Where do you even begin searching for someone you haven’t met yet, someone you wouldn’t even recognize until your heart says, “There… that’s her”?

It might sound dramatic. Maybe even foolish in today’s world of endless swipes and likes.

But I believe in something else—

Something slower. Something real.

I believe in crossing paths.

Not chasing.

I want to meet her like you meet rain unexpectedly on a sunny day.

Like two people missing their buses, sitting on the same bench for five minutes too long.

Like two souls walking opposite directions but turning around at the same moment—without planning it, without expecting it.

I want that eye contact where a thousand questions are asked and answered silently.

The kind of smile that doesn’t flirt, doesn’t try—but makes your stomach turn because it feels like home.

The voice that doesn’t echo in your phone speaker, but stays in your mind long after she’s gone.

Not because we exchanged numbers.

Not because I slid into her DMs.

But because something within me whispered, “You’ll see her again.”

You see, I’m not saying it’s wrong to meet someone online. I know it works for many. I know love happens in comments, likes, texts, emojis, video calls.

But it’s not my way.

I don’t want to build memories in chat bubbles.

I want to remember the way her fingers curled around her coffee mug. The way her hair danced when she laughed. The way her presence filled the room without trying.

I don’t want to scroll.

I want to stumble.

I’ve heard people say, “You’re being too passive. You’ll miss her.”

Maybe.

Maybe I’ll miss her because I didn’t swipe right.

But maybe I’ll find her when I least expect to. Maybe I’ll find her while helping an old woman cross the street. Or standing awkwardly in a wedding line where I know no one.

Or maybe I’ll never find her, and just meet people who aren’t her.

That’s a risk I’m willing to take.

Because I don’t want to chase a shadow.

I want to meet a soul.

So no, I’m not searching for her.

Not on dating apps.

Not in random texts.

Not in forced conversations with people I already know I won’t feel anything for.

I’m just living.

And if she’s out there, truly meant to cross my path—

I believe we will.

Someplace.

Somewhere.

Eyes will meet. Hearts will pause.

And we’ll both know.

I’m not searching for her.

I’m waiting to recognize her.