A Song for You
March 23, 2025
Mia never expected a song to change her life.
She first heard it on a rainy Tuesday, sitting at her usual café. The soft strumming of a guitar floated through the speakers, followed by a voice—warm, deep, familiar in a way she couldn’t explain.
The lyrics were simple yet beautiful, telling a story of two strangers crossing paths, of unspoken words and missed chances.
She was mesmerized.
Curious, she asked the barista, “Who sings this?”
The barista grinned. “Local artist. He drops off recordings every now and then. No name, just leaves them for us to play.”
Mia’s heart skipped. A nameless musician, writing songs that felt like they were meant just for her?
Over the next few weeks, she kept coming back, hoping for another song. And each time, a new melody played—each one softer, more intimate, as if the singer was telling a story that was slowly unfolding.
One day, she found an envelope waiting at her table.
Inside was a note.
“You’ve been listening. I’ve been watching. Meet me here this Saturday at 5 PM?”
Mia’s breath hitched. Could it really be him?
Saturday arrived, and she sat at her table, fingers curled around her coffee cup. The café door chimed, and a man walked in—tousled brown hair, dark eyes filled with quiet intensity, a guitar case slung over his shoulder.
He looked right at her.
“Hi,” he said, almost shyly. “I’m Ethan.”
Mia swallowed, her heart pounding. “You’re the one who wrote the songs?”
He nodded, setting the guitar down. “I wrote them for you.”
“For me?” she echoed, barely believing it.
Ethan gave a small, nervous smile. “I saw you here once, and I don’t know… something about you made me want to write. I never had the courage to talk to you, so I let the music do it for me.”
Mia exhaled a soft laugh, overwhelmed by the warmth spreading through her chest. “Well,” she said, “you had my attention from the first note.”
Ethan sat across from her, pulling his guitar onto his lap.
“In that case,” he murmured, “would you like to hear one more?”
Mia smiled. “I’d love that.”
And as the first chord rang through the air, she realized that sometimes, the most beautiful love stories weren’t spoken.
They were sung.