u/Classic-Artist-2689

i want you so bad, and it hurts knowing that no matter how much i want you, i can’t have you. not because i don’t want to, not because i don’t see a possibility of wanting you more, but because some things just aren’t meant to happen, no matter how badly our hearts wish they could. and maybe that’s the cruelest part of all this.
sarap sa feeling isipin na what if maging akin ka? what if i get to love you without having to feel guilty about it, without all these circumstances standing between us, without having to remind myself that there are reasons why i can’t let myself want you this much. but reality keeps reminding me that wanting you and being able to have you are two completely different things.
and god, you’re so near. you’re right there, within reach, close enough that i could probably start a conversation with you if only things were different. but every time i see you, i’m reminded of how close you are physically and how impossible it is for me to get any closer to you in the way i secretly wish i could. ang sakit lang kasi the more i see you, the more i want you, and the more i want you, the more i have to remind myself that i can’t.
sometimes, i wish i had met you in a different lifetime, under different circumstances, when wanting you wouldn’t be something i have to fight against. maybe in another version of this world, i wouldn’t have to write unsent letters about you. maybe i could just walk up to you, say hi, get to know you, and let things happen without having to think about all the reasons why i shouldn’t.
but this is the lifetime i have, and these are the circumstances i have to live with. and as much as it hurts, i know that wanting you doesn’t automatically mean i get to have you.
so i guess i’ll just keep liking you quietly. from a distance that i wish didn’t have to exist. i’ll keep all the conversations we never had, all the things i wanted to tell you, and all the little what-ifs that will probably never become anything more than what-ifs.
and maybe one day, i’ll stop wishing things were different. maybe one day, seeing you won’t hurt this much. but right now, it does. because how do you even begin to let go of someone you never really had the chance to hold on to?

i wish i could have you in this lifetime. but maybe, in this one, all i can do is wish.
and that hurts more than i know how to explain

*

i hate admitting this, but i want you. so, so bad.
not in the reckless, movie-scene kind of way.
just in the quiet, unbearable way.
the kind that turns every random thought into you.
the kind that convinces me that maybe, if i look hard enough, i’ll find a sign that you feel it too.
it’s embarrassing.
because what do i even have?
a crush from afar.
a collection of imagined moments.
a thousand unsent messages.
and all this yearning with nowhere to go.
i keep telling myself it’ll pass.
that i’ll wake up one day and you’ll just be another person.
but tonight isn’t that night.

tonight, i miss someone i never really had.
and honestly?

fuck.

i just want it to be you.

It’s strange to miss someone
who was never mine to miss.
We’ve never talked.
Never had a conversation that I could replay at night.
Never had a moment that belonged to just the two of us.
And yet, somehow, you became someone I look for.
Across rooms.
In passing.
In crowds where I know you probably wouldn’t even notice me.
I wonder what it would be like to know you.. not the version of you I’ve pieced together from afar, but the real you. The one with the annoying habits, the quiet moods, the stories I’ll probably never hear.
Maybe that’s the dangerous thing about liking someone you don’t know.
You get to fall for possibility.
For a smile you weren’t sure was meant for you.
For a voice you’ve heard but never heard say your name.
For little glimpses that your mind turns into an entire story.
And maybe you don’t actually miss them.
Maybe you miss the version of the story that could have happened.
Still…
If you ever wondered why I looked a little too long,
why my eyes somehow always found you,
it was never accidental.
You just never knew.

Maybe I’m not ready to show myself to anyone yet. There are still parts of me I need to fix, understand, and make peace with.

So maybe I’ll leave it here for now. See you until then. I hope, somewhere along the way, we cross paths again.. when I’m finally ready, and maybe when you are too.

🦍

There is a particular kind of heartbreak reserved for people who have never been touched by the person they love.
It is the kind that grows in silence.
The kind that survives on stolen glances and imagined futures.
The kind that leaves no evidence except the way your eyes instinctively search every room until they find one face.

Yours.

You don’t know you’ve become a habit.
I look for you before I took a seat.
I count the days sometimes by the color of the jacket you’re wearing.
I have loved versions of you built entirely from distance.
What a tragic thing.. to know someone only by the light that falls on their face.
There are entire oceans between us, though we’re separated by nothing more than rows of chairs.

Sometimes our eyes meet.
For a heartbeat.
And I swear the universe pauses just long enough to remind me what it feels like to almost belong somewhere.
Then you look away.
As if I am only another stranger.
Maybe I am.
You have never had to survive the unbearable weight of being perceived by the person you love for only a second.
You have never gone home carrying a glance like it was a promise.
You have never mistaken coincidence for destiny simply because your heart had nothing else to hold.
I have become embarrassingly good at grieving things that never existed.

The smile you never gave me.. except that one time, maybe.
The conversations we barely had.
The version of us that only lives in the quietest corners of my imagination.
No one warns you that yearning is a form of mourning.
You mourn a future before it’s even born.
You mourn a name that was never yours to say with tenderness.
You mourn memories that will never happen.
And somehow they still hurt like they’re real.
If longing had a sound, it would be the silence between our glances.
If it had a color, it would be the empty seat beside you that was never mine.
You are close enough that I know the shape of your shadow.
Close enough that I can recognize your silhouette before anyone else’s.
Close enough to destroy me.
Yet impossibly unreachable.
Sometimes I wonder if there is another version of this universe where you looked at me just one second longer.
Maybe that was all it would’ve taken.
Maybe entire love stories have depended on less.
But not ours.
Ours dies every day in the space between looking and looking away.
The cruelest thing about you is not that you don’t love me.
It’s that you were never asked to.
You have lived so gently inside my heart without ever knowing you were there.
You have never carried the weight of me.
Only I leave the room feeling as though I have survived another small funeral.
And tomorrow, I will do it all again.
I will pretend that seeing you doesn’t rearrange something inside me.
I will pretend that your existence is ordinary.
I will pretend that my heart doesn’t break in such quiet ways no one notices.
One day we’ll stop sharing hallways.
You’ll become a face I used to know.
A stranger with a familiar silhouette.
And I’ll have to live with the unbearable truth that the greatest love of my life was one I was never brave enough.. or perhaps never meant.. to begin.
How devastating it is to spend an entire season of your life loving someone…

…only to realize they never once had to miss you back.

yours, 🩶

While I hate human interaction, I somehow crave yours.

We’ve crossed paths too many times today. I don’t know if you noticed. Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. But every time you walked past me, it felt like the universe was giving me another chance to say something, and every single time, I let it slip away.

From where I stood, all I could do was watch.

Watch you smile.

Watch your eyes light up for other people.

Watch you become so effortlessly alive in conversations I’ll never be a part of.

And there I was, only existing at the edge of your world.

You.

I wonder what it would be like if, just once, your smile was meant for me. If your eyes searched for mine in a crowded hallway. If my name ever crossed your mind the way yours refuses to leave mine.

Instead, I memorize the version of you that doesn’t know I’m watching.

I memorize the way you laugh.

The way you tilt your head when someone speaks.

The way your voice carries just enough for me to hear, but never enough for me to belong.

I hate how my heart mistakes proximity for hope.

Just because we keep crossing paths doesn’t mean we’re walking toward each other.

It only means I get more chances to miss you while you’re still right there.

There are so many things I want to tell you. I want to ask about your day. I want to know what keeps you awake at night. I want to hold your hand without wondering if you’d pull away. I want to hold you long enough for this aching in my chest to finally quiet down.

But I can’t even gather the courage to say hello.

So I do what I’ve always done.

I love you in silence.

I become a stranger who knows the rhythm of your footsteps, the shape of your smile, the brightness in your eyes that was never meant for me.

And maybe that’s the cruelest part.

You’re close enough for me to see every beautiful thing about you, yet impossibly far from ever being mine.

You’ll probably never know that someone spent an entire day hoping you’d look their way.

You’ll never know how many words died behind a smile I never had the courage to give you.

And tomorrow, if our paths cross again, I’ll probably do the same thing I’ve always done…

look at you for one second too long,

look away before you notice,

and carry the weight of another almost.

yours, 🩶

I think the hardest part isn’t wanting you. It’s knowing, with painful clarity, that I can’t have you.

Not because I don’t want to try. Maybe because I shouldn’t.

There are days when all I want is to be close to you, to take care of you in the smallest ways, to ask how your day went, to make sure you got home safely, to be someone your heart naturally reaches for. I keep imagining ordinary moments with you because they feel far more precious than grand gestures ever could.

The strange thing is, you don’t know any of this.

You don’t know how often I hope we’d cross paths. How a part of me quietly waits, convincing itself that maybe today our worlds will overlap for a few seconds longer. You don’t know how your presence lingers long after you’ve left, how your voice echoes in moments that should have nothing to do with you.

Sometimes you look at me, and for a fleeting second, it feels like you want me nearby too.

Maybe I’m wrong.

Maybe I’m only seeing what my heart desperately wants to believe. So I stop myself before hope grows into expectation. I’d rather carry unanswered feelings than build a story that was never yours to tell.

Still, if I’m being honest, I would burn for you.

Not in some loud, dramatic way, but in the quiet way people carry impossible things. The kind that asks for nothing in return. The kind that simply exists because loving someone can happen without permission, without timing, without certainty.

If there is another life waiting somewhere beyond this one, I hope we’re kinder to each other there. I hope I won’t have to love you from a distance or convince myself to settle for passing glances. I’d spend that lifetime memorizing every part of you, the way you laugh, the way you speak, the little habits no one else notices. I’d choose you over and over without hesitation.

But this life is different.

In this one, I learn to love you silently.

I let the feeling stay where it belongs, inside these pages, inside a letter you’ll never read.

And maybe that’s what loving you was always meant to be: not possessing you, not being chosen by you, but becoming someone who was capable of loving this deeply, even when the ending was never mine.

Best, 🩶