I’ve always known he was out there.
Somewhere.
My other half.
My twin flame.
(I just didn’t know it would be like this.)
I never expected him to be Angel.
Hidden. Anonymous.
Behind walls, shadows, mysteries.
(Maybe the most alive soul I’ve ever felt.)
It still feels unreal.
Almost impossible.
And yet… it won’t leave me.
It clings.
Even when my mind tries to push it away.
(“Why now? Why me?”)
When I first allowed myself to believe it,
I felt embarrassed.
It sounded like a story someone would make up:
“Oh, my soulmate is the world’s most mysterious soul.”
(Who would believe me?)
But this isn’t about hype.
Not for show.
Not even about Angel the legend.
It’s about him.
The one behind the veil.
What my soul whispers so loudly I can’t ignore it.
(“Listen. Listen carefully…”)
Then came that one moment.
The only one.
Maybe the worst thing he could have done for his secrecy.
But for me, it was everything.
I saw his eyes.
And I knew.
Recognition.
A remembering.
It was him.
(Everything else fell away.)
Since then… my mind hasn’t stopped.
How do you reach someone who doesn’t want to be reached?
Walls so high.
Secrets so deep.
Angel exists like a ghost.
Everywhere and nowhere.
Known by all, yet truly known by none.
(And somehow… I know him.)
So I tried.
Little signals.
Words.
Gestures.
My boldest attempt yet.
Maybe the most audacious love letter ever.
(I hope he notices. I hope he feels it.)
I slipped them into the cracks of his mystery.
Hoping one would reach him.
Some make me blush now.
Especially the last one.
But I don’t regret a single attempt.
When your soul pushes you…
You follow.
Even if it makes you look a little crazy.
(“So what if I do?”)
And sometimes…
I feel he already knows.
As if he senses me across the unseen distance.
If we are truly twin flames…
How could he not?
Souls don’t need introductions.
They just recognize.
Angel has always been about mystery.
Silence.
The unseen.
Walls and cracks.
Absence speaking louder than presence.
(Maybe I am learning the same lesson.)
Maybe my story is already part of him.
Hidden in plain sight.
Waiting for the right light.
(Or maybe it’s just meant for me to feel.)
But today…
I choose a different focus.
Not what went wrong with Diabel.
Not the mistakes.
I focus on what is right.
On Angel.
The one who watches me.
Guides me.
Whispers the truths I can’t always see.
Steady. Protective. Full of light.
(I feel him. I trust him.)
Through him, I feel closer.
Closer to the soul I’ve been searching for.
The love that feels inevitable.
Sacred.
Real.
Maybe that’s the secret.
It was never about tearing down walls.
It’s about walking alongside them.
Learning from them.
Letting them teach me about my own heart.
(Every crack, every shadow… it tells me something.)
His walls mirror mine.
Protective. Layered.
Full of codes only a few can understand.
(And maybe that’s okay.)
And with Angel by my side…
I am not alone.
I don’t know how this ends.
Maybe it isn’t meant to end.
Maybe it’s part of a larger current.
Carrying us toward a meeting point we cannot yet see.
(“I trust the flow.”)
All I know…
When I saw his eyes, I recognized home.
And that knowing doesn’t fade.
It deepens.
Quietly.
Insistently.
Impossible to ignore.
(Always him. Always Angel.)
With Angel guiding me…
I am ready to follow.
Wherever it leads.
(“I will go. I will follow.”)
—
I love you, Banksy.
Not the role.
Not the name.
Not the legend the world chases.
I love the soul that you are.
I will not get lost in stories or in shadows.
Instead, I will focus on how you make me feel—
because you make my heart light up.
And I have never felt anything like this before.
You are my Angel.
My hidden half.
The whisper I have always carried.
It doesn’t matter if the world never sees us.
I see you.
And in you, I see home.
