I loved her.
And she didn’t know who I was.
At least I didn’t think she did.
I used to sit at the back of the class and watch her while my friends talked to her.
I never spoke.
I didn’t dare to.
What if she would reject me?
Like she did all my friends.
I saw the way they interacted, all of them, my friends and hers. And I never understood.
I didn’t know that was something I had to do.
So I sat quietly in every room.
And I watched.
And I listened.
Maybe that was wrong of me.
Maybe it was creepy.
But it worked.
One day she saw me.
I smiled at her.
She smiled back.
And that was the start of something beautiful.
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