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There’s a particular kind of loneliness in loving someone who has no idea they’re loved. I carry these feelings around like a secret with nowhere to go. You don’t know how much I look forward to seeing you, how your presence can change my entire day, or how your absence stays with me long after you’ve left. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to tell you. How often the words have reached my throat, only for fear to swallow them. So I pretend. I pretend your smile doesn’t affect me. I pretend I don’t notice when you’re near. I pretend I don’t think about you when I’m alone. But then I go home and realise how much of my mind you occupy. You’re living your life completely unaware of how deeply you’ve found your way into mine. I’m terrified that if I tell you, I’ll lose the little piece of you I have now. So I’ve stayed quiet, wondering what might have happened if I’d just been brave enough. And if I’m finally honest, there’s only one truth I’ve been trying so hard to hide: I fell for you. Quietly. Completely. Long before you ever knew it was happening. I don’t need you to love me back. I just needed you to know. I loved you in silence because I was afraid of what would happen if you knew. And now I’m afraid of what will happen if you never do.
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