Eight Years of Silence(II)

I talked to him once. For the first time. Because I had learned to hide my feelings better than before. And that was enough— to say I was his classmate. To have stood beside him in the same room, breathing the same air. But we never became friends. We never got close. He never knew how long I’d been carrying his name like a secret prayer. Now I’m in tenth. And somehow, I’m still in love with him. Eight years. Eight years of quiet longing, of daydreams left unfinished, of a love that never had the chance to begin. But I’ve lost myself along the way. I don’t recognize who I am anymore. I’ve fallen so far from the girl who once believed she was worthy of feeling something this pure. I don’t think I deserve to long for someone like him anymore. Even if fate allows us to meet again, if time is kind, if I’m still here in this world by then— I won’t approach him. Because sometimes, love stays soft by staying silent. And maybe some feelings are meant to live quietly, in the spaces between what could’ve been and what never was.