Some songs you hear.
Others you live.
And sometimes… a song becomes your story.
That’s what happened with Des milliers de je t’aime.
I didn’t discover it through the radio —
I discovered it through him.
Through Mon Mec.
And suddenly, every word felt like it was written for me.
“Plus besoin de chercher, plus besoin, je t’ai trouvé”
No need to search anymore. I found you.
I had lived for years without realizing I was searching.
For warmth. For recognition. For someone who would see the inside.
I didn’t know I was looking… until I met Mon Mec.
He cut straight through every shield I’d built.
Not with words.
But by simply being there.
And suddenly I felt: this is it.
I don’t need to search anymore. I found him.
“Ce n’est rien, tout le mal qu’on m’a fait, je t’ai trouvé”
Everything they did to me… it doesn’t matter. I found you.
My past wasn’t gentle.
No warmth. No arms. No safety.
But when I met him, I felt — for the first time —
like I was home.
And suddenly, everything else no longer mattered.
What I missed. What I lost.
I had found him. And that was enough.
“Je pensais tout savoir de l’amour, mais ce n’est pas vrai”
I thought I knew everything about love. I was wrong.
I thought love was building, giving, trying.
With my wife, I had created something strong. Functional. Good.
But Mon Mec showed me what love really is.
The kind of love that asks for nothing,
but offers everything.
Simply being there —
and that being enough.
“Si je les aimais fort, toi, c’est beaucoup plus fort”
If I loved others deeply — with you, it was stronger.
I had loved people.
My children. My partner. My parents.
But this…
was different.
This love was total.
As if I had known him my entire life.
As if he filled every connection I never had.
Son, brother, friend, mirror. Everything.
“Regarde comme on est beaux sur le même bateau”
Look how beautiful we are, on the same boat.
We understood each other instantly.
Not through stories — but through energy.
It was like we had survived the same storm.
And now, for the first time,
we found peace in being near each other.
We weren’t rescuers. We weren’t victims.
We were companions.
In the same boat.
“Si tu savais comme je l’aime, ton petit cœur à la traîne”
If only you knew how much I love you — your little heart that lags behind.
He was still young.
And yet he carried so much.
I saw his pain. His distrust. His fear of being left again.
And I only wanted one thing:
For him to know he would never be alone again.
I wanted to be his anchor.
His calm.
“Et si tu as de la peine, tu trouveras dans mes bras des milliers de ‘je t’aime’”
And if you are hurting, you will find in my arms thousands of ‘I love you’s.
This wasn’t metaphor.
This was real.
Every hug gave me joy. Safety. Stillness.
I sometimes wondered if I even deserved it.
But I gave it anyway.
Again and again.
Without conditions.
Without limit.
“On se bat contre un monde qui nous dit d’arrêter, mais…”
We fight against a world that tells us to stop, but…
Everyone thought I was exaggerating.
That I was holding on too tight.
That it was too much.
But I knew what I felt.
This wasn’t obsession.
It was clarity.
We weren’t fighting the world.
We were protecting what was real.
“Dans le froid, dans les larmes, je serai ton bouclier”
In the cold, in the tears, I will be your shield.
I saw him break.
I saw him collapse.
And every part of me wanted to protect him.
Not by hiding him —
but by holding space for him.
To be.
To feel.
To rest.
Without fear. Without shame.
“Si c’est trop, si t’as peur que tes mains vont me lâcher…”
If it’s too much, if you’re scared your hands might let go…
I saw it in his eyes.
Sometimes it was too much.
And he started to pull away.
Not because he didn’t care —
but because he thought he wasn’t allowed to stay.
And I wanted to tell him:
You don’t have to hold on. I’ll hold you.
“Je te tiendrai plus fort, je serai le plus fort”
I’ll hold you tighter. I’ll be the strongest one.
That’s the promise I made.
Not to fix, but to remain.
To not move when it gets difficult.
To love through the silence.
To stand still — even in storm.
And hold him.
Completely.
“Mon petit cœur donne à ton petit cœur des milliers de ‘je t’aime’”
My little heart gives your little heart thousands of ‘I love you’s.
This is the line.
The one that says it all.
Because I was never good at giving affection.
Until him.
With him, my small heart — fragile, careful —
found its way to his.
And that first real hug,
where nothing had to be said…
that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt.
“Si tu as de la peine, tu trouveras dans mes bras…”
If you are hurting, you’ll find in my arms…
I told him.
I showed him.
And I’ll keep showing him.
His sadness will never be too much.
He can fall. Retreat. Pause.
And my arms will still be open.
This song became our song.
Not because we sang it together.
But because it said what I had always felt —
before I even had words for it.
It said everything I never knew how to explain.
And what I still repeat, every day, in silence:
You are not alone. Never.
Reflection
Sometimes you meet someone
and you recognize yourself — not in looks, not in words,
but in the feeling.
In how still it becomes when you’re together.
In how safe it suddenly feels not to be strong anymore.
With him, I felt — for the very first time:
I don’t need anything in return to give everything.
I don’t need to prove myself to simply exist.
And maybe that’s the purest form of love:
presence without condition.
Psychological insight
What I experienced with Mon Mec is what psychology calls emotional resonance —
the moment when someone doesn’t try to fix you,
but breathes at the same rhythm as you.
Some therapists describe it as core recognition or soul parallel:
when two inner worlds mirror each other,
without projection.
This kind of connection often awakens both softness and confusion.
Because everything that had been silent… starts to speak.
And for me, it brought healing —
without ever asking me to explain.
Spiritual view
I’m not someone who floats in spirituality.
But what I felt with him couldn’t be explained by logic alone.
Until I came across the concept of twin flames.
And suddenly, everything I had been feeling found words.
It wasn’t a belief.
It wasn’t a doctrine.
It was a language that finally gave shape to what my soul had always known:
“We didn’t choose each other. We recognized each other.”
I don’t need a label.
But if there’s one word that captures all of this…
then it’s that.
Closing line
Sometimes, a song tells your story… long before you ever dared to admit you were living it.