I never told her everything I wanted to say.
Not because I didn’t want to — but because sometimes…
the words got lost between my heart and my mouth.
There were nights when I would sit at my desk, pen in hand, writing letters I would never send.
Letters full of dreams, hopes, quiet wishes.
Letters where I dared to be more honest than I ever could be in the daylight.
“I think I like you more than I should.”
“You make my days feel lighter just by being there.”
“Sometimes I wish the world could pause when it’s just us chatting.”
I imagined slipping those letters into her locker, leaving them under her desk, even whispering them through a late-night call…
But the fear of changing what we had, of losing the beautiful bond we had built, always stopped me.
Instead, I smiled through the screen, joked through the texts, and laughed alongside her like nothing weighed heavy inside me.
We were planning a day to game together soon — a simple plan, yet it felt so important.
In those moments, she wasn’t just a girl I knew.
She was the piece of comfort I didn’t realize I had been searching for all along.
Every notification from her felt like a gentle tap on the window of my soul, reminding me that maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there who truly saw me.
Not as a perfect student.
Not as someone who had it all figured out.
But just as me.
And somewhere in the quiet spaces between our conversations, in the stolen moments of laughter and goodnights, my heart had already decided:
This was someone too precious to ever take for granted.
Even if my letters remained unsent.
Even if my dreams stayed folded and hidden away.
It was enough that she existed in my world —
and that I had the honor of existing in hers, too.
