Some stories don't begin with a confession.
They begin silently…
in classrooms, in small glances, in moments you don't even notice.
Ours started when I was in 4th grade.
Back then, life was simple.
My biggest worry was finishing homework on time or not forgetting my tiffin box at school.
And him?
He was just… there.
A familiar face.
A classmate.
Someone I laughed with, shared notes with, and sometimes fought with over silly things.
We were good friends.
At least, that's what I thought.
I didn't know that while I was living my normal school life,
he was quietly noticing things about me.
The way I tied my hair.
The way I laughed too loudly.
The way I always chose the window seat
I didn't know any of that.
Because in my head…
his story was completely different.
I was convinced he liked my best friend.
It made sense to me.
She was prettier.
More confident.
The kind of girl people noticed easily.
And me?
I was just… me.
So whenever he talked to her, laughed with her, or even looked in her direction,
I would smile to myself and think—
"Yeah… he definitely likes her."
Funny, isn't it?
How we create stories in our minds…
without ever knowing the truth.
Looking back now, I wonder—
How many times did he try to show it?
How many times did I miss it completely?
But at that age, love wasn't something I understood.
Feelings were just… feelings.
And his?
They remained unspoken.
Hidden somewhere between friendship and something more.
While I walked through those school corridors thinking everything was normal…
He was already living a story
I didn't even know I was a part of.
I didn't know it then…
but this quiet beginning would turn into something
that would stay with me for years.