My hidden feelings (1)

I first met Emi in middle school...

...Back then, I was pretty active and, you could say, loud, annoying, and noisy. However, I made a lot of friends thanks to this outgoing and straightforward personality.

Emi, on the other hand, was the complete opposite of me. Like a calm ocean. She was awkward, quiet, and shy.

I always found her sitting by the window, alone, absorbed in a book. Her uniform was neat and tidy, her pink hair tied up in a ponytail, her face and gaze soft and calm.

Is she always like this? Sitting alone, reading? Does she have any friends? I've never seen her in the cafeteria... Where does she usually eat?

These were my thoughts.

I didn't understand why I was so curious about her. But since our seats were next to each other, my eyes often fell on her.

Sometimes she would catch my gaze and I would immediately look away awkwardly.

Why was that? I guess I didn't want her to think I was weird... So out of character for me.

In those moments, she wouldn't say anything and would just go back to reading a book or playing with her phone, leaving me to wonder what she was really thinking.

Not that I had any feelings for her at that moment... At least I don't think so... It was simple curiosity.

I didn't plan to approach her either, thinking that perhaps she liked being alone.

I didn't know how to talk to her or what to talk about.

...It happened when we were alone in the classroom.

"Um... do you like to play games...?" she asked suddenly.

I was very surprised by her unexpected question and stared at her in puzzled silence, wondering if I had imagined it or not.

If it hadn't been just the two of us in the classroom, I would have thought she was talking to someone else.

I remember how awkward she looked at that moment, struggling to hide her visible nervousness...

Then she waved her hands in front of her, and, yelling something like, "I'm sorry! That was a stupid question! Just forget it!" quickly hid her red, embarrassed face behind the book.

There was only one thing on my mind at that moment. Maybe I had misunderstood her completely. All this time I had thought of her as a mysterious, reserved girl who didn't want any friends, but maybe she was just shy. Maybe she really wanted someone to talk to?

So I immediately smiled at her and let her know that it was okay and that I didn't mind her questions.

Upon hearing my answer, her big eyes looked at me with relief...

She was shy... but brave.

I can still remember all the details of that first interaction... how she nervously tried to fill even the slightest silence between us, as if afraid that the conversation would die... how she nervously clutched the book with her fingers while talking to me... how she blushed excitedly when I answered her questions sincerely... how she smiled happily when I showed interest in her...

No matter how different we were, we became close so easily.

It really felt like magic.

I liked my other friends too, but she was different: she was calm, quiet, and had a strange but serene aura about her.

It was nice and comfortable to be around her.

These thoughts didn't come overnight.

At first, she was just another friend of mine, just someone I walked home from school with, just someone I talked to a lot...

The strange feelings grew gradually, almost imperceptibly. I don't know when they first appeared. Just one day I found myself thinking about her more than my other friends.

They were unfamiliar feelings, somewhat distant and incomprehensible, which I had not yet paid attention to or understood.

They were intangible sensations, like waves, impossible to grasp and soon to be swallowed by the night.

And somehow I could not resist those feelings...

Soon I started spending more and more time with her, not just on the way home or to school... but even at her house. We played games together, watched movies together, and had sleepovers.

Soon our late night games, dinners, and lunches at each other's houses became routine.

It became something ordinary...

I liked it when she smiled and laughed. I liked it when she looked at me. And I liked looking at her.

I loved being with her.

Each time I felt a genuine excitement in anticipation of spending time with her. I began to open up to her. And I loved seeing new sides of her that I hadn't seen before. Even though I had many friends, it all felt new to me.

Sometimes I would find myself looking at her more intensely and deeply than usual. And when I realized it, I would quickly turn away in embarrassment, pretending I wasn't staring at her, trying to hide my gaze... At such moments, her slightly curious and gentle gaze would fall on me. But I was too afraid that if our eyes met, she would see something in me that I hadn't noticed myself yet.

I really learned a lot about her.

For example, she got embarrassed easily, liked cheesy fantasy romance stories, was afraid of horror movies, loved stuffed animals, and was into fashion and makeup even back then...

I could go on forever.

She didn't fit in with my other friends, and honestly, I didn't think she'd be comfortable with them. So sometimes I was torn between two worlds. And even though I often had to choose, for some inexplicable reason, I chose to spend more time with her.

I cherished the time I spent with her, even though sometimes we did things I hadn't enjoyed before.

But it wasn't until that day that I truly realized how much I had grown attached to her.

…That day, I noticed that Emi, who rarely missed class, was absent.

As I stared at her empty seat, the class seemed to have lost its liveliness, becoming grayer, duller, and more lonely.

Why wasn't she here today? She hadn't mentioned anything. What could have happened to her? Was she sick?

I didn't know, so I decided to send a simple message...

But there was no reply.

Time passed...

The teacher's voice sounded distant, and my eyes fell on her empty seat more often than usual.

Something was gnawing at me.

Why isn't she reading my message? Why doesn't she answer me? If she wasn't feeling well, why didn't she let me know? I felt a little hurt. Did she think I wasn't important enough?

The uncertainty weighed on me. I kept pulling out my phone to check my messages. But each time there was no response from her.

The lecture faded into the background along with the voices of the other students, and the noise of the classroom seemed far away.

My fingers clutched my phone, waiting for the sound of a new incoming message.

My thoughts and feelings were unusually loud that day...

Ugh. Is it even normal to think so much about someone else? What's wrong with me? She hasn't come to school once, and I'm acting all weird. She'll definitely be creeped out by my behavior if I act so obsessively. But, uh, why can't I deal with this feeling in my chest? It's strangely empty... like something important is missing.

I've opened the messages many times and tried to write something else... But each time, my fingers would just linger on the send button and then I would delete the message without sending it.

She hasn't responded, which tells me she doesn't want to talk to me... If I send another message, she might get annoyed.

These thoughts were new to me. All of this was new to me. I just didn't understand anything. Why am I so pissed that she hasn't replied?

"Forget that idiot!" one of my friends shouted when I confided my feelings. "She obviously doesn't care about you!"

Their words sounded unexpectedly harsh...

Why were they acting like that today? Why did they insist on hanging out after school?

Kids aren't good at hiding their feelings.

And then it hit me. As the thought went through my head, I just giggled to myself. I would be so happy if my hunch was right! That would mean she didn't hate me! Ah! I felt so relieved!