It wasn't a grand moment, like in the movies, where time slowed down or music swelled in the background. No, it was quieter than that. Almost unnoticeable at first, like the softest whisper in my chest, a feeling that began as curiosity but quickly grew into something else.
I can still remember where I was maybe not all the details, but the way my surroundings blurred as she came into focus. The way the ordinary seemed to shift into something extraordinary, and suddenly, I realized something was different. My heart didn't just beat; it stumbled. The world was the same, yet I wasn't. I saw her, and it was like heaven. It wasn't grand, but something about the way she stood there made everything around me fade. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. She was just a stranger yesterday, yet today, her face felt so... different. I had met her just the day before, but now it was like I was seeing her for the first time. How could that be? I barely knew her. I barely knew myself. But there I was, feeling something I couldn't name, something that made no sense. "What is happening to me?" I asked myself. Was this what people called "love"? Or was I just lost in a moment, caught in something I didn't understand? I tried to approach her, to express what I felt, but every time I thought about it, doubt crept in. Was it just one of those fleeting feelings, those imaginary hopes? Or was this something real? It was then I told myself to stop—this wasn't the right time. I was caught up in the chaos of my disimaginative feelings, trying to figure out if it was just a passing moment or something deeper. And then came the pandemic. The worst day of my life. Suddenly, the world shifted. I couldn't see her anymore. I couldn't see her smile, hear her laugh, or watch her walk through the halls. It was like someone had taken away the one thing that grounded me. I missed her... so much.
Days felt like years, as I waited for the day school would resume. COVID-19, they called it, but to me, it was just a prison—a place where I had to stay locked up, away from everything and everyone, especially her. The silence was deafening. I couldn't find her. I couldn't find a way to talk to her, or even hear from her friends or family. It was like a cruel twist of fate, and I felt so helpless. Three months felt like forever. And when school was supposed to resume, I was filled with hope, only to be met with disappointment. Online lessons started, and there she wasn't. She wasn't there like I hoped she'd be. I couldn't stop asking myself: Would she return? Would I ever see her again? Would I ever have the chance to tell her how I felt? One day, one of them one of my imaginary friends said, "listen to yourself. You've realized you have feelings for someone, and yet, you can't wrap your head around it. Why are you making this so hard on yourself? You don't even know if you're going to go back to school. They say doctors will decide everything. Amir, are you crazy or what? Get it together! Forget about her." But no matter how loud they spoke, I couldn't shake the feeling that I couldn't ignore. I stood firm, telling them to quiet down. I didn't want to hear it. "I'm going to see her again," I said, my voice filled with certainty. "I know I will. I'll return to school, and she'll be there. I have faith."
Every day, I would go on to the classes, looking for her, expecting to see her there, even if I knew deep down she might not be. That hope kept me going, like a promise I made to myself. One day, I would see her again. I knew it. I could feel it.
After three long months of being stuck at home, not knowing what to do with myself, I missed her more than words could express. The silence felt unbearable without her presence, her smile, her energy. Every day seemed to drag on, but then... the message came. The news we had all been waiting for: we were resuming school. A wave of relief washed over me, but with it, a flood of uncertainty. Was she coming back too? Was this the moment I had been waiting for? I could feel my heart race as the thought crossed my mind. It had been so long, and yet, here I was, still holding on to that hope. I resumed school, and there was a burst of happiness inside me. But beneath it all, my heart was in suspense. I was eagerly waiting for her—just waiting to see her face. Nothing else mattered. Just seeing her face would be enough to make me smile the entire day. That's how much she meant to me. She was the one thing I was longing for as I stepped back into school. I didn't care about the noise around me or the hustle of getting back into routine. All I could think about was her—her smile, her eyes. I wanted to see her again. But when I got to school, things didn't go as I imagined. The assembly was held, but it wasn't the same. There weren't as many students, thanks to the virus. The vice principal welcomed us back, and gave us some thoughts about the time we spent away. Everyone seemed to just be going through the motions. After the assembly, we went back to our classes. I sat there, trying to focus, but all I could think of was her. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing—something crucial, something that made my world feel complete. after the get together by my friends and I some teachers came for us and promoted us to the next class without the exams. They would determine if we moved up a grade. But even with this, I couldn't focus. I hadn't seen her. And that gnawed at me, the absence of her. It was painful, deep in my chest. I waited. I waited for her. I waited to see her again. The classroom felt emptier without her, like there was a shadow over everything. No matter how many people I talked to, no matter how loud the conversations around me got, it all felt... hollow. I threw myself into schoolwork, trying to distract myself. But even that couldn't stop my mind from wandering back to her. Her face, her smile—it was all I could think about. After the long day, I went back home and before I knew it, it was bed time, I'd lay in bed, wondering where she was, what she was doing, and if she even remembered me.
The next day arrived and it happened. I was sitting in class, minding my own business, when suddenly, the door opened. My heart stopped for a moment, and I turned to see who it was. There she was. Nadira. I didn't know whether to smile or cry. It felt like the world had been spinning in slow motion until that moment, and suddenly, everything clicked back into place. She was back. She was here. I didn't want to seem too eager, though inside I was bursting with emotions I could barely contain. I tried to keep my composure as she walked into the room. My heart raced, but on the outside, I stayed calm. Our eyes met, and in that brief moment, the world seemed to fade away. She smiled at me, a friendly, casual smile, like someone greeting an old friend. It was warm, kind, but to her, it was just that, a smile between friends. But for me, it was something else entirely. My smile may have mirrored hers on the surface, but inside, it was a reflection of something deeper, something only I could feel. It wasn't just a smile; it was a wave of relief, joy, and... love. I couldn't let her see how much her presence meant to me, how much I had missed her. So I returned her smile, trying to keep it as neutral as possible, but inside I was overjoyed. She was here. She was really here, in front of me again, and for the first time in months, my world felt right. I knew I couldn't just jump into it. I couldn't tell her how I felt, not yet. It wasn't the right time. She had just resumed, and I didn't want to overwhelm her with something she wasn't expecting. I didn't want to scare her off or make her feel like I was being too forward. I kept it all inside, locked away. The next day, though, I couldn't help but feel the same surge of happiness as I did the day before. The simple fact that she was back made everything brighter. That day felt like the best day of my life, just because she was there, living her life, walking the halls I once walked alone. Every little moment felt sweeter now that she was around. The sound of her laughter, the way she moved, how she talked with everyone—it all captivated me. And as my feelings for her grew, I couldn't help but wonder... what if she could feel the same? What if she knew how deeply I cared for her? But I pushed the thought aside. I wasn't ready to tell her yet. It felt too soon. Too risky. But deep down, I knew one thing: seeing her, being close to her, was the reason I came to school every day now. This was what I had been waiting for. She didn't know what I felt. She couldn't. But I did. And that was enough for now.
One day, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I gathered all my courage and wrote to her, finally expressing how I felt. It wasn't the perfect moment, and that day certainly wasn't the best. My heart was racing as I sent the message, and when her reply came, it was nothing like what I had hoped for. She ignored my message at first, then later told me no. It felt like a blow to my chest. She said I was making her angry, and all I could do was sit there, crushed. But then, something unexpected happened. Instead of letting the moment break me, I quickly came up with a way to deflect the awkwardness. I manipulated the situation, telling her it was just a test, to see if I could trust her more. To my surprise, she apologized. She thought maybe I had misunderstood her, and there I was, feeling guilty for my own manipulation. I apologized too, though I knew I was still reeling from the fact that she had just rejected me. We didn't really talk about how we felt, not directly. She didn't say if she was tired or frustrated, and I didn't press her for an answer. But somehow, the conversation shifted. The tension started to fade, and something deeper grew between us. That day was the beginning of something new—our connection deepened. It was as if everything suddenly made sense. She had been giving a little more of herself, and I was doing the same. We both felt the same way. We didn't have to say it out loud, not yet. But I knew she felt it too. The bond between us had been confirmed, and for the first time, I could see that maybe, just maybe, we could be more than just strangers in the hallways. I smiled that day, genuinely. The smile wasn't just a reflection of the joy of seeing her, but the realization that we were both willing to connect, to give a little of ourselves to each other. Our hearts were closer now, and I knew it was time to nurture that connection, to let it grow into something even stronger.