The night we met.
The Night We Met—A Love That Never Was
It’s been a while since I’ve let my thoughts spill onto a page. A memory, a feeling, a familiar ache I hadn’t visited in a while. So I wrote. Just a small piece, honest and unfiltered, born from a moment of stillness and a wave of nostalgia. I hope it stirs something in you too! 🤭
— Jasmine.
Many see The Night We Met as a song about lost love, heartbreak, or nostalgia, wrapped in sorrowful melodies. But to me, it is neither sadness nor longing—it is emptiness. A void that was once brimming with the promise of something beautiful.
The song doesn’t merely depict a tragic love story; it captures a fleeting moment—one perfect, irreplaceable night where two strangers, who had never crossed paths before, met and, for a few precious hours, became everything to each other. It was a night soaked in magic, a night that felt like destiny teasing them with a love they could never truly have.
They met by chance, but it didn’t feel like chance at all. It felt like they had known each other long before their souls took form in this world. Conversation flowed like a river unburdened by time, words weaving an invisible thread between them. They laughed, their fingers brushing in innocent curiosity, sending shivers down their spines. Stolen glances turned into prolonged stares, the kind that said more than words ever could. Their touches were electric, burning every inch of their skin like an unspoken promise.
They danced through the night, not in the way of swaying bodies to a rhythm, but in the way their souls intertwined in every exchanged smile, every shared whisper. They sat on the trunk of a car, gazing at the vast sky—empty of stars yet glowing as if it, too, understood the significance of the moment. The air was thick with something unnamed, something neither of them dared put into words.
But desire spoke where words failed.
At some point, between the drunken laughter and their bustling conversations, their hands found each other, fingers lacing with a kind of urgency neither could explain. Their lips met—softly at first, testing, learning. But the kiss deepened, growing desperate, as if trying to memorize the taste of each other. They made out with an intensity that blurred the edges of reality, their mouths moving in sync, their bodies pressing together as if they could somehow stop time by holding on tighter.
When they made love, it was not hurried or careless like a one-night stand. It did not feel temporary. It felt like a silent vow, a language only their bodies understood. Every touch was deliberate, every kiss lingering, trying to brand the moment onto their souls. It wasn’t about lust—it was about remembering. As if they both knew they would wake up in separate worlds and all they would have left was this night. They traced each other’s skin as if mapping a constellation, whispering names that would soon become nothing but echoes in the wind.
And yet, even as they lay entangled, breathing in each other, something in the air hinted at the inevitable.
As dawn painted the horizon with soft strokes of light, an unbearable ache settled between them. Reality loomed like an unwelcome guest, reminding them that their time together was slipping through their fingers. Their gazes locked, heavy with the weight of everything they felt but could never say. A quiet desperation filled the space between them—not just a longing to stay, but a painful awareness that this was the end before it had even begun.
They held each other, imprinting the warmth, the scent, the essence of what they had created in those fleeting hours. They wanted to remember—needed to remember—because memories were all they would have. If only the universe had been kinder. If only they had met under different circumstances. If only they had more time…
But they didn’t.
With hearts burdened by unspoken goodbyes, they parted. No promises were made, no hopeful reassurances. Just silence. And then, life resumed—reduced to distant glimpses on social media, the occasional knowledge of themselves from their mutuals, the sporadic passing thought, and the cruel whispers of what if?
What if they had never met that night? Would it have been easier to never taste something so perfect, only to have it ripped away? Or was this pain—this aching, beautiful void—a gift in itself?
In another universe, maybe they got their forever. Maybe they loved each other until the world faded around them. But in this one, they remain nothing more than a memory—two souls who brushed against each other for a single, unforgettable night. A night they would relive in their minds a thousand times over, wondering… if only.