The Revel Heart || Ni-ki

Epilogue I

The years that followed graduation were a blur of growth, change, and the constant push-pull between what we were and what we were becoming. The day I walked off the stage at the ceremony, shaking hands with the principal and smiling for the cameras, I didn’t feel like I was leaving behind the world I’d known; instead, I felt like I was stepping into an entirely new one - one that was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.

And as I looked back at that moment, I knew I had no idea what was ahead. But I knew one thing for sure: I wasn’t walking into it alone.

Ni-ki and I, well, we had always been something of an odd pair. At first, I thought we were too different. He was the president, the leader, the one who had it all figured out. I was the rebel, the one who couldn’t stand to be tied down, the one always looking for a way out of the rules, trying to prove I could be more than what everyone expected me to be. I thought that maybe, somehow, that would make us fall apart.

But here we were, a few years after graduation, still standing beside each other, stronger than ever. And the truth was, the more I spent with Ni-ki, the more I realized how much we needed each other, how much we balanced each other. He was my calm when I was too chaotic. I was his spark when his mind became too structured, too focused on the future. Together, we had found our rhythm our own brand of balance.

It wasn’t perfect. Life never was. But we had learned how to fight for each other and how to give space when needed.

I remember the night we first said "I love you" really said it, without hesitation or fear. It was a cool, quiet night, the kind where the stars hang low in the sky like diamonds scattered across velvet. We had been out late, walking around the town near the university we both went to now. There was an unspoken tension between us that night, as if we were waiting for the other to say something, to put all of our uncertainties and fears into words.

And then Ni-ki turned to me, his eyes dark under the dim streetlights. "Celine," he had said, his voice soft and hesitant. “I love you.”

I remember the way my heart seemed to stop for a beat. I had never expected him to say it so clearly, so without hesitation. For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know how to explain all the things I had been feeling.

But then, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and said, “I love you too, Ni-ki. I always have.”

And I realized, at that moment, that the fear of losing myself, the fear of giving too much of myself away, was nothing compared to the feeling of being with him. Loving him didn’t mean I had to give up who I was. It meant I had to accept that I could love and be loved without losing myself.

We didn’t know what the future would bring, not really. We still had our differences. He was still the planner, the one who liked things mapped out and structured, while I was always more of a “go with the flow” kind of person. We fought, of course sometimes over silly things, sometimes over bigger questions about where we were going and what we wanted from life. But we always found a way back to each other. I think that’s the thing about love. It doesn’t mean you won’t argue or that you won’t question things along the way. It just means you’re both willing to work through it, to keep finding each other in the mess.

That was one of the biggest lessons I learned in the years after graduation how to embrace both the chaos and the calm, how to love without losing yourself in the process. I had learned to let go of the idea that I had to be completely independent to be strong. I could be strong and still let someone in. I could be me, and we could still be us.

That summer after graduation, Ni-ki and I spent a lot of time just figuring out how we worked as a couple outside the confines of school. We’d go on spontaneous road trips, get lost in small towns we’d never been to before, and end up laughing at how we got lost in the first place. We talked about our futures, and as we did, the pieces of our life started to fall into place, slowly and naturally. We didn’t have all the answers, but we had each other and that was enough to make the future feel less daunting.

Our paths diverged, of course, in some ways. Ni-ki, always the driven one, decided to pursue a degree in business. He had always been ambitious, and it was clear that he had a mind for leadership, even beyond the student council. I had never been as certain about my path. I didn’t want to be defined by a single title or role. So, I chose to study environmental science, hoping to make a difference in a world that seemed to be in need of it. We were both focused on our careers, our goals, and our dreams, but we made sure we kept each other close tethered, even when the distance between our studies or schedules felt like it was pulling us apart.

It wasn’t always easy. We both had moments when we doubted ourselves, when we wondered if we were making the right choices, if we were even meant to stay together forever. There were nights I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I could really manage it all being with him, being myself, and chasing my dreams. But every time I doubted, Ni-ki was there with a steady hand, a soft word, reminding me that we didn’t have to have everything figured out right now. We just had to keep moving forward, together.

And so, we did.

It’s funny how life has a way of surprising you when you stop expecting things to go according to your plan. I never thought I’d fall for someone like Ni-ki someone who was so different from me, so structured, so careful. But he was exactly what I needed. He challenged me when I needed to be challenged, calmed me when I needed to be calmed. And I, in turn, gave him the freedom to loosen up a little, to embrace spontaneity, to take risks he might not have otherwise taken.

Now, as I sit here, looking back at how far we’ve come, I realize how much we’ve both changed how much we’ve grown. It’s not about the big moments, the grand gestures, or the idealized version of love that we’re all told to strive for. It’s about the small, quiet moments the late-night conversations, the soft touches, the way he always knows when I need him close and when I need space. It’s about knowing that, no matter what happens, we will always choose each other.

Even when things get hard, we’ll choose each other.

And isn’t that what love is, after all? It’s not about the perfect fit, or about never fighting or never feeling scared. It’s about finding someone who makes you feel at home even when the world around you is uncertain.

I glance over at Ni-ki, who’s sitting across the room, his head buried in a book, completely lost in whatever task he’s tackling. The familiar comfort of his presence washes over me. I smile to myself and set down the notebook I’ve been writing in.

He looks up, catching my gaze, and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

And in that moment, with the light from the setting sun spilling in through the window and casting shadows on his face, I know that we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.

Together.

We may not know what the future holds, and maybe we never will. But one thing is for sure: I wouldn’t want to face it with anyone else.