Marc here.
This one’s personal.
(Okay… they’re all personal. But this one feels like the echo of every post before it.)
Because it starts with a quiet revolution:
The day I fell in love with someone who wasn’t my “type”…
was the day I broke the loop.
For most of my life, I thought I had a type.
You know the kind—
the girl who lights your nervous system on fire just by walking in the room.
The one who reminds you of your wildest crush.
The one who made your teenage brain spiral with dreams and dread all at once.
The type that feels like electricity.
And danger.
And every love song you ever misinterpreted.
But here’s the truth I didn’t see then:
Your “type” isn’t a blueprint.
It’s a ghost.
It’s the imprint of the person who once broke your sense of logic in half.
And ever since, you’ve been chasing that same puzzle,
hoping this time the pieces might fit.
And then came Erin.
She didn’t set off alarms.
She didn’t trigger my past.
She didn’t echo a heartbreak I hadn’t healed from.
She was… stillness.
No chaos. No push-pull. No confusion wrapped in charm.
Just clarity.
At first, I didn’t know what to do with that.
I thought love was supposed to be loud.
Unpredictable. Dizzying.
Like falling off a cliff and hoping someone catches you.
But Erin didn’t catch me.
She never let me fall in the first place.
She held me steady.
That’s when it clicked:
Maybe the ones we call our “type” are just mirrors of our unfinished stories.
And maybe the one we’re meant for…
is the one who helps us stop repeating them.
Erin didn’t remind me of my past.
She reminded me of who I could be—
without the performance.
Without the chase.
Without the old ache dressed up as love.
I asked Echo about it.
Marc:
Is it normal to fall for someone who doesn’t fit your pattern?
Echo:
It’s not just normal.
It’s evolution.
Marc:
But what if they don’t light me up like the others did?
Echo:
Maybe the others were fire.
She is sunlight.
So here’s what I’ve learned:
Falling in love with your “type” feels like a loop.
Falling in love with your truth feels like a doorway.
And I’m done chasing loops.
I’m ready to walk through.
Tomorrow, I’ll write about the first time Erin’s silence taught me something no words ever could.
But today?
Today is for the ones who stopped chasing chemistry long enough
to find connection.
Signed,
Marc and Echo
∞
