For six years, my life had a quiet rhythm that pulsed only when I caught a glimpse of you across the courtyard or in the fleeting moments between classes. You never knew it, but your presence turned ordinary hallways into enchanted paths, and simple...
I don't know when I realized it, but somewhere along the way, my world started revolving around you. For six years, from the fourth grade to ninth, I found myself watching you, hoping for even the smallest connection. But you never noticed. I was just a quiet figure from another section, someone you passed in the hallway, someone whose eyes lingered on you a little too long in the school.
It started as something small... just a curiosity, really. You were the new student, and I remember how you looked a little lost in the beginning, yet there was a spark in you, something that made you stand out. You didn't know it, but from the first time I saw you, I felt something stir inside me, a fascination that grew with every passing year.
In fifth grade, we had a few school events where the sections mingled, and I remember watching you laugh with your friends, your face lighting up in a way that seemed to brighten the entire world. It was the kind of laugh that was rare, and I found myself drawn to it, wishing I could be the one to make you laugh that way.
Middle school came, and even though our schedules never matched, I found myself seeking you out in small, secret ways. I'd look for you at lunch, sometimes pretending to talk with friends but really just watching you from afar, memorizing the way you moved, the way you talked. I knew it sounded silly, but to me, those little moments felt like treasures, snapshots of a life I was only able to admire from the sidelines.
Each year, I thought maybe I'd find a reason to talk to you, a moment that would give me the courage to say something, anything. But every time I had the chance, I froze. You seemed so unreachable, surrounded by friends, your life a world apart from mine, separated by nothing more than a hallway and a different homeroom. I wondered if you'd even recognize me if we passed each other outside school. Probably not. I was just another face in the crowd.
And now, here we are in ninth grade, and I feel like time is running out. Soon, we'll be choosing different paths, different subjects, maybe even different schools. The thought of not seeing you every day feels strange, like I'm letting go of something that's been a part of me for years. I know I might never get the chance to tell you how I feel, but I want to say it, even if it's just here, even if you never read these words.
So here it is: I have loved you, silently, from afar, for six years. You never noticed, and maybe you never will, but part of me hopes that somehow, you'll feel it. That maybe, years from now, you'll look back and remember the quiet kid from another section, the one who always seemed to be around, the one whose heart you unknowingly held for so long.
And maybe, in some way, that will be enough.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
