"A Dream That Briefly Looked Back"

I don’t really know how to say this — or even where to begin —
but maybe that’s how all the softest things start: with a pause, with silence, with a heart full of things that ache to be said.

So let me begin here:
I know — I know — nothing could ever bloom between us.
Not in the way stories do, not in the way dreams pretend.

This letter may never reach you. You may never read it, may never know who wrote it, and maybe… that’s okay.
Still, I write.

We’ve never really known each other — a year and a half at most — and even then, you were more of a distant light than a part of my world.

But somehow… you became something to me.

Whether it’s infatuation, or something heavier — maybe even love — I honestly don’t know.
But what I do know is this:
You are kind. You are beautiful. You are someone I deeply admire.

You are rare — in a quiet, soul-deep kind of way.
And you are precious to me, even if only in silence.

I don’t think I could ever bear to see you hurt. If I did, I’d come undone. I’d lose myself in the grief of it.

The only time I ever saw you in person — really saw you —
was in school.
Tuesday, September 19, 2023.
Six days before my birthday.

And in some strange, beautiful way, that fleeting glimpse felt like a gift.
Even if it was only a second.
Even if you didn’t see me at all.
I smiled the entire day.

Like something in the universe whispered,
“Here. This is for you.”

But that was the first — and the last — time.
And maybe… the only time.

I left school in June 2024.
Money got tight. Life pulled me away. And maybe, in doing so, it pulled me from you too.

So now, I carry that one day with me like a pressed flower — fragile, perfect, untouchable.

You don’t feel real.
You never have.
When I saw you, it was like stepping into some ethereal dream.

I still wonder if I imagined it.
Like I slipped into a daydream where everything I wanted lived — even if only for a moment.
Sometimes I convince myself that maybe… just maybe…

It really happened.
Maybe I really saw you.
Maybe you were real.

But the truth is: when I look at you — even now, just in memory —
I'm at a loss for words. I lose my thoughts. I just feel.

And all I can say is this:
If somehow, somewhere, you ever feel that soft pull in your chest — that unexplainable warmth without a source —
Maybe that’s me.
Maybe that’s this letter.
Maybe that’s how I love you — quietly, hopelessly, beautifully —
from afar.

March 28,2025