✨ Look at the Centre for 15 Seconds

It all began with a strange sentenc

“Look at the center for 15 seconds,” she said, smiling at me.

I laughed. “What does that even mean?”

“Just do it,” she whispered, handing me a photo. It was an old black-and-white picture of a heart drawn on paper. In the middle of the heart, there was a small black dot.

So I did what she said. I stared at the center — that tiny dot — for fifteen seconds. I didn’t understand why, but for some reason, my heartbeat slowed. Everything around me faded away. It felt like the world went silent.

Then she said softly, “Now close your eyes.”

I did.

“What do you see?” she asked.

And I smiled. Because in the darkness behind my closed eyes, I could still see her face — clear, glowing, and warm.

That was the first day I met Aira.

We were both university students. She studied psychology; I studied computer science. She believed everything had meaning — words, symbols, silence, and even the way we breathe. I believed only in logic and code.

But she changed that.

Every day, she would bring me small challenges.

“Close your eyes and listen to your heartbeat.”

“Hold my hand and say nothing for one minute.”

“Look at the sky until you forget your worries.”

At first, I thought she was just playful. But slowly, I realized — she was teaching me how to feel life again.

One rainy evening, we sat together in the campus garden, sharing one umbrella. The world shimmered with reflections — puddles, lamplights, raindrops.

She looked at me and said, “People forget to look at what’s in front of them. They chase things around the sides — fame, fear, and money. But the truth is always in the center.”

I smiled. “And what’s at your center?”

She paused, then looked into my eyes. “You.”

That was the moment everything stopped — time, rain, sound. Only her words remained, soft and infinite.

Months passed, and our love grew quietly, like sunlight through curtains. She was peace; I was noise. She taught me how to slow down, how to see beauty in small things.

But one day, she stopped coming to class. No messages. No calls. Just silence.

I went to her home. Her mother opened the door — her eyes were red.

Aira was in the hospital.

She had been hiding her illness — a heart condition she’d had since childhood. She never told anyone. Not even me.

When I saw her lying in that hospital bed, pale but smiling, I couldn’t stop my tears.

“Don’t cry,” she whispered. “Remember what I told you? Look at the center for 15 seconds.”

I held her hand tightly. “Why do you always say that?”

She smiled faintly. “Because when you look at the center, you stop seeing the outside world. You see what truly matters. You see love.”

That night, she drew a small heart on a tissue, placed a dot in the middle, and handed it to me.

“When I’m not here,” she said, “look at this for 15 seconds. Then close your eyes. You’ll still see me.”

I didn’t know those were her last words.

It’s been three years.

I still keep that small piece of tissue in my wallet. Whenever life feels heavy, I take it out, place it in front of me, and stare at the center for 15 seconds.

And just like before — she appears.

Smiling. Calm. Beautiful.

Now I understand.

Love never disappears. It just moves to the center of your heart — waiting to be seen.