It’s strange, how the heart can build walls no one else sees.
She was right there—sometimes just a few steps away. Her presence always steady, like the comforting hum of wind through tall trees. But despite her being close, I felt miles apart.
She was a council member now.
Respected. Responsible. Always carrying herself with a gentle authority.
And me?
I was just… me. A regular student navigating a new world, trying to find my place among unfamiliar faces and hallways that echoed with expectations.
Every time I saw her walking through the corridor, her armband catching the sunlight, her expression calm but focused—I felt something tighten inside. It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t intimidation.
It was admiration… mixed with a quiet ache.
I knew her laughter. Her late-night voice. The way she teased during games. I knew the version of her that leaned back in her chair and sighed after a long day. That was the girl I grew close to. That was the girl I cared about.
But here—within these school walls—she felt untouchable.
And yet, she never changed.
She still smiled warmly when our eyes met. She still waved when she wasn’t rushing through duties. She still glanced my way during assemblies like we shared a secret only we understood.
To her, there was no gap.
No difference in titles. No invisible wall between student and council.
But to me… it felt like I had been left behind, just a little.
Not because she meant to, but because I was afraid to reach forward. To remind her that I was still here. Still the one who picked up her eraser all those months ago. Still the one who remembered every little moment.
It wasn’t her fault. She never made me feel lesser.
It was just the way I looked at her—like she was standing on a balcony in the moonlight, and I was staring up from the garden below.
Maybe… maybe one day I’d climb those steps.
But for now, I stayed where I was. Watching from afar. Letting my heart ache gently, because even in the distance… she still brought light.
And maybe that was enough for now.
