There was a beauty in it, in the way the world seemed to pause whenever she was near. Her presence was like the first drop of rain after a long drought—silent, but it rippled through the air, leaving traces of something precious in its wake. She moved through the halls like a ghost of a melody, barely heard but undeniably felt. There was a softness to the way she laughed, as though the sound itself was the whisper of a fragile thing, one that could shatter if given too much attention. And yet, it was the only thing that made my heart beat at all.
She was the quiet brightness of dawn breaking through the heavy, gray clouds of my thoughts. A light that I could not touch but lived for all the same. Each glance, each passing moment where our eyes met, felt like a fleeting piece of sunshine that kissed my skin before disappearing—warm and gentle, but so, so short-lived. Every time I saw her, my heart flinched in its chest like a bird with broken wings. It fluttered, desperate to break free of its cage, but never could. Not while she remained a dream, a soft echo of what could never be.
Her laugh echoed through the empty corners of my mind, like a song that would never finish, the last note always just out of reach. It was the sound of something unattainable—like the last breath of summer fading into autumn, its warmth lingering for a moment before the cold winds of reality would push it away. I could feel it in the depths of my ribs, a pressure in my chest that I tried to ignore but could not. I was drowning in the sound of her, in the weight of what I could never have. She was everything I had ever wanted, and yet, nothing I could ever reach.
There were days when I caught her in the corner of my eye, the space between us filled with the quiet hum of unspoken words. I could see the way her lips moved, forming thoughts I could never share. She was a secret, a riddle wrapped in the soft glow of her own world, one that I was never meant to be part of. Her hands were never mine to hold, and her smile was never meant to warm the emptiness inside me. She lived in a place I couldn’t follow—her heart was a landscape I could never walk across, a wild forest too vast and untamed for me to find my way through.
I wanted to reach out to her, to speak the words that my mouth could never form. But every time I did, the fear of breaking something delicate held me back. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing that the slightest misstep could send everything crashing down. I knew better than to push; I knew that some things were meant to stay unspoken, locked away in the dark corners of my heart. I wanted her to stay perfect in my eyes, untouched by the reality of what I truly felt.
And yet, no matter how much I wished to keep my feelings buried, they bloomed within me like a flower that could never face the sun. They pressed against my chest, aching for release, a silent scream that no one would ever hear. I loved her, but in the cruelest of ways—like a flame that warmed but could never be touched. I loved her from a distance, with a quiet desperation, watching her slip away through the hands of others, knowing that she would never look back.
There were moments when our hands would brush, and in that split second, the world would seem to stop, the air thick with the unspoken magic of a touch that would never last. My skin would burn where hers had been, and for the briefest moment, I would feel as though I had everything I’d ever wanted. But then the world would continue to turn, and the moment would slip away like water through my fingers.
She was like a song I would never hear in full—just fragments, bits of melody that played in the corners of my life, but never enough to satisfy. I longed for the music of her laughter, the warmth of her presence, but it was always just out of reach, a song that could never be mine. The more I wanted it, the further it slipped, until all that was left was the haunting silence of unspoken words and unmet glances.
And in the quiet of the empty halls, when the world was asleep and no one else could see, I would hold onto the image of her in my mind—my heart breaking with the truth that I would never be the one she turned to. It was like watching a star burn out, knowing it would never return, knowing that I would never be enough to light up her sky. I wasn’t meant to be part of her world. And that knowledge, that bitter, sharp truth, tore at me every day.
The beauty of it all, though, was that I knew she was out there, living her life in a way that could never be mine. Her world was full of possibility, of laughter and light, and even though I could never walk beside her, I could still see the glow of her from the farthest edge of my reality. And though the ache in my chest would never truly fade, I would carry it with me, a constant companion—a reminder that love, even when unspoken, was still something beautiful, even when it broke you from the inside out.