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Juliana Jung.
A person whom seemed to revolve around my world.
It was a paradoxical feeling-one that's both exhilarating and exhausting.
Loving her was like being in a beautiful, tumultuous whirlwind. It was an ecstasy so profound that words fail to capture its full extent. Just seeing her smile, even from afar, could make my day brighter. But, oh, the pain! It was a pain that felt like a persistent ache in my chest, a constant reminder that she didn't return my feelings.
I still remember the day I tried to kiss her. What on earth possessed me? I can't even pin down the exact moment I thought, "Yeah, this is a great idea!" It's not that I don't want to kiss her anymore-I still do, desperately. But looking back, I feel like I was overtaken by some irrational force. It's baffling, really. What happened to me? Was I under some spell or just hopelessly misguided?
After that day, I tried everything I could think of to make it right.
I approached her again and again, apologizing, trying to explain how sorry I was for causing her pain. I wanted her to know that my feelings were sincere and that I deeply regretted the awkward, painful situation I'd put her in. Day after day, I would make my attempts, but it felt like I was shouting into an abyss. Her silence, her avoidance-it was like she had built a fortress around herself, and my apologies were nothing more than futile attempts to breach its walls.
Eventually, I gave up. I retreated into the background, choosing to admire her from a distance, even though it was like being a ghost in my own life.
Over the years, our interactions-or lack thereof-grew into a sad routine.
It wasn't that she was actively avoiding me. No, it was more the absence of any attempt to bridge the gap between us. She never looked my way, never spoke to me, never acknowledged my existence.
To her, I was just a shadow, a background character in the movie of her life. But for me, she was the entire plot. She was the highlight, the climax, the reason I kept playing my part.
So here I was, three years later, still hopelessly in love with someone who sees me as nothing more than a stranger. It's a love that refuses to fade, no matter how much distance she puts between us. And despite everything, I have no intention of stopping. Maybe it's madness, or maybe it's just the way I'm wired, but my feelings for her remain as intense as ever. I've accepted my role as a background character, but my heart-my heart still believes in the story where she's the leading lady, and I'm just hoping for a scene where our paths might finally cross again.
It was the last Saturday before senior year, and Mia's mansion was buzzing with that kind of energy that only comes when the end of summer looms over you like a ticking clock. The air was warm, humid, but filled with excitement-people throwing themselves into one last fling before reality yanked them back into its unforgiving grip.
