Seven Years of Waiting: She Could Never Love Me

Here is the song lyrics I created. Please review it before reading the story.

"Unspoken Words"

I saw you first in the Christmas light,

A fleeting glance that felt so right.

Your laughter rang like a melody,

But you were a dream, just out of reach for me.

I prayed to the stars, I whispered your name,

Hoping somehow you’d feel the same.

But every step I took, you walked away,

And I was left in the shadows to stay.

Chorus:

Unspoken words, they linger in my heart,

A love that was doomed from the very start.

Though you never saw the tears I’d hide,

You changed my soul, though not by my side.

I followed the echoes of your sweet voice,

Bound by love, though I had no choice.

I watched you hold another’s hand,

A silent ache I could barely withstand.

I knelt in prayer, asked for a sign,

Why does love leave its hardest lines?

The answer came, not as I dreamed,

But through a grace unseen, yet supreme.

Chorus:

Unspoken words, they linger in my heart,

A love that was doomed from the very start.

Though you never saw the tears I’d hide,

You changed my soul, though not by my side.

Bridge:

In the stillness, I found my way,

A voice inside began to say:

“Your love was real, but let it be,

For the greatest love will set you free.”

Chorus:

Unspoken words, they linger in my heart,

A love that was doomed from the very start.

Though you never saw the tears I’d hide,

You changed my soul, though not by my side.

Outro:

Now I stand, with a heart made whole,

Your memory’s a part of my soul.

Unspoken words, I’ve let them fly,

With love that blooms under heaven’s sky.

The story begins here:

My journey as a writer began not out of passion, but from profound pain—pain so deep it changed who I was, and in many ways, made me who I am today.

I had always been an ordinary young man, leading an ordinary life. But everything changed when I encountered her—the girl who would unknowingly shape my destiny, even though she never loved me back. This is the story of how my unspoken emotions for her transformed me forever.

The Beginning Of The Journey

The year was 2010. I had just completed my graduation and returned to my hometown for Christmas after a decade-long absence. My studies had taken me away from home, beginning in 2000 when I left after class nine. I spent ten years in hostels, away from the warmth of my family and the familiarity of my hometown. This Christmas was a much-anticipated reunion with my roots, and as soon as I arrived, the warmth of the welcome I received from friends, relatives, and even the church elders was overwhelming. It felt like I had been missed.

The Christmas preparations were in full swing, and I found myself being roped into the festivities as one of the church's youth team members tasked with decorating the church. It was a lively group, comprising a mix of boys and girls, all of us familiar with each other. We worked tirelessly, transforming the church into a vibrant canvas of lights, garlands, and Christmas cheer. Among the chatter and laughter of our group, I noticed her for the first time—Jane. She wasn’t just another member of the team. To me, she was the embodiment of beauty, grace, and charm.

Jane was 19 at the time, a few years younger than me. Her laughter was like a melody, and her every move seemed choreographed by an invisible hand. I couldn’t help but tell one of my friends that she was the kind of girl I had always imagined falling in love with. My heart, however, sank when he informed me that she was already with someone. That revelation struck me like a thunderbolt. A surge of envy and disappointment coursed through me, but I tried my best to suppress it. Little did I know that my feelings would prove impossible to suppress.

As the days went by, Jane occupied my thoughts more and more. On the Sunday before Christmas, I experienced a moment that still lingers vividly in my memory. The church bell rang at nine, and I made my way toward the church gate. There she was, walking alongside a young man who I assumed was her boyfriend. They were laughing, their faces alight with joy. I wished, with every fiber of my being, that I was the one walking beside her. Holding my sling bag tightly, I mustered the courage to walk past them, trying my best to appear nonchalant.

I joined my friends near the gate, and within moments, Jane and her companion approached us. She joined the conversation, her laughter ringing out as we shared jokes. I acted completely normal, masking my turmoil behind a veil of friendliness.

Inside the church, I chose a seat among the youth and realized, to my delight, that Jane was sitting where I could see her clearly. My focus wavered throughout the service. The words of the sermon seemed distant, drowned by the sight of her angelic face. Her perfectly curved chin, her sweet lips, and the radiant beauty of her smile captivated me in a way I had never experienced before. I silently praised God for creating someone so exquisite, and in my heart, I whispered a prayer, “God, I wish she were mine.”

After the service, we gathered outside for tea and snacks. Jane approached our group, and to my surprise, she struck up a conversation with me. Her voice was soft, her words filled with warmth. She asked how I felt about the sermon. Embarrassingly, I hadn’t paid much attention to it, but I managed to fumble a response. “It was really good! I feel like it spoke directly to me,” I said. Her smile widened, and she nodded in agreement.

As we talked, I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her every word. Her animated expressions, her sparkling eyes, and her genuine enthusiasm made time stand still. When she thanked me for fetching her a cup of tea, her gratitude felt like a precious gift. Our conversation was brief, but as she waved goodbye, her smile lingered in my mind long after she walked away.

From that day forward, we became good friends. Jane was the kind of person who could light up any room with her presence. She loved to talk, often changing topics mid-conversation with a burst of excitement. Her energy was infectious, and I cherished every moment I spent with her. But beneath my cheerful demeanor, my heart ached with unspoken love.

On Christmas Eve, just past midnight, our group of friends gathered at one of their houses for a cozy supper. We lit a fire and sat around it, enjoying the warmth. Everyone had their girlfriends by their side, except for me. I clutched my guitar, treating it like my companion for the night. As I strummed, we all joined in singing Christmas carols and any song that popped into our heads. Directly across from me sat two couples, the boy with his arm around the girl’s shoulder, both of them singing along with the rest of us. Every time I looked at them, my heart clenched in pain. I tried to avoid their gaze, but they were right in front of me, and I couldn't help but look. The sight of their closeness hurt more than I could bear.

Around 3 AM, after the meal, we all started heading home. I watched as my friends walked off into the night, their arms around each other, holding tight. I pretended to head home as well, but my heart wouldn't let me. I silently trailed behind them, unable to resist. I knew I shouldn't do it, but something deep inside urged me to follow. They were heading to the girl’s house—probably so the boy could make sure she got home safely.

I hid behind a wall near her house, keeping my distance. From there, I watched them reach the door, standing face-to-face, speaking softly. I couldn't hear their words, but it didn't matter. After a moment, the boy pulled her closer, his hand resting on her shoulder. They embraced so tightly, I thought nothing could fit between them—not even a needle. And then, they kissed. A kiss that seemed to speak of forever, a kiss that felt like it could erase time itself. My heart broke as I watched them, and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face. I couldn’t bear to watch anymore. I turned and walked away, head down, towards my own home.

As I walked, I looked up at the sky. I saw millions of stars, but none of them could offer me comfort. My gaze shifted to the moon, drifting alone in the quiet night, just like me.

That night, sleep evaded me. I tossed and turned, haunted by the memory of their kiss. By dawn, I had given up on sleep altogether. The morning light brought no solace, only a sense of emptiness. Christmas morning, which should have been a time of joy, felt hollow. I questioned why I had come home at all. But amidst my pain, a small part of me was grateful for having met Jane, even if it meant enduring heartbreak.

The Heartbreaking Confession

The days passed quickly, and soon it was January. My departure for further studies loomed closer. Desperate for guidance, I confided in my friend Chris. His advice, however, was disheartening. He suggested that I move on and find someone else, but my heart rejected the idea. Jane was irreplaceable to me.

One afternoon, while wandering through the market, I saw her again. She was with her younger sister, buying toys and carrying a bag of vegetables. Gathering my courage, I approached her and asked if we could talk. She agreed, and we arranged to meet later that day at the centenary hall.

It was 3 p.m. now. I had dressed up and made my way to the spot we had agreed on. I waited for a minute or two, then saw her walking toward me. As soon as she entered the campus, her eyes met mine, and she waved, calling out, “Hi, Robert!”

“Hi, Jane!” I waved back, my heart racing a little faster.

Her smile, her voice—everything about her was so warm when she called my name. She approached me, speaking in that effortlessly friendly way that made everyone feel welcome.

Jane was the kind of person everyone loved. She was polite, charming, and could strike up a conversation with anyone, even strangers, as though they’d been friends for years.

“Thank you for coming, Jane,” I said, trying to keep my nerves in check.

She laughed softly, “Haha… I almost didn’t. You know, everyone talks about you—about your sincerity, your kindness, and so much more. They say there’s no one like you in this town.”

Her words took me by surprise. I didn’t expect that at all.

“Oh, thank you so much for saying that! But honestly, I’m not as great as people make me out to be. Still, I really appreciate it,” I replied, a little flustered.

I still remember the evening when the weight of my feelings finally overcame my fear. The centenary hall stood before us, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun. Jane was beside me, her presence calming and yet deeply unsettling my restless heart. I had carried the words “I love you” inside me for so long, they had become a part of me—like a secret too heavy to bear, yet too precious to let go.

She tilted her head and smiled. “So… why are we here?”

The moment her question hit me, I froze. My stomach tightened. I felt like running away, as if that would somehow spare me the fear of saying what had been on my mind. We stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity. Then, gathering every ounce of courage, I blurted it out.

“Jane, I love you,” I said, closing my eyes as if to shut out the world. My voice trembled, betraying the confidence I desperately tried to project. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, each beat echoing like a drum, each second stretching into eternity. I didn’t dare look at her.

When I finally gathered the courage to open my eyes, the sight was almost too much to bear. Jane’s wide, startled eyes were fixed on me, her face frozen in disbelief. Her silence was deafening. It cut through me, sharper than words ever could. I wanted to disappear, to take back what I had said, but the words were out there now, irretrievable.

“Yes, Jane,” I repeated, my voice breaking, “I love you with all my heart.”

She finally spoke, her voice soft and deliberate, “Robert, this is not what I expected from you.”

Her words were not harsh, but they carried a weight that crushed me inside. She placed a hand on my shoulder, a touch that felt both comforting and heartbreaking. “Robert…” she began, lowering her gaze before meeting mine again. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“It’s okay, Jane,” I interrupted, desperate to shield her from the burden of rejecting me. “I already know. I just couldn’t keep it inside anymore.”

I tried to smile, but the ache in my chest made it impossible. I turned away, unable to face her as she walked slowly toward the gate of the hall. Each step she took felt like a step away from the life I had envisioned with her. She didn’t look back.

The days that followed were a blur of emptiness. Food lost its taste, laughter felt hollow, and the world seemed drained of color. My life moved on in slow motion until it was time to leave for college in Shillong. Even as I focused on my studies, Jane remained a constant presence in my heart, a silent ache that refused to fade.

Three months later, I returned home briefly after my uncle’s sudden death. In the village where we gathered to mourn, I saw Jane from a distance. She hadn’t changed, yet there was something different about her—something I couldn’t place.

“Jane has changed a lot,” my friend told me later. “She’s not like she used to be.”

The next time I saw her was at a village football tournament. I approached her, unable to resist the pull she still had on me.

“Hi, Jane,” I greeted her awkwardly.

She looked surprised but responded politely, “Why are you here? I thought you were in Shillong.”

I explained my brief return home, and after a short exchange, she said, “See you soon,” before walking away. Her composure, her maturity—it all seemed so unlike the Jane I had known.

The Silent Ache: How Love Transformed Me Forever

On Sunday evening, I saw her again, walking alone from church. I gathered my courage and caught up to her.

“Jane, are you… are you single?” I asked hesitantly.

Her reaction was immediate. “Robert, I’m so sorry,” she said before turning and walking away without another word.

That encounter marked the beginning of a pattern. Year after year, I tried to tell her how I felt, hoping that time might change her heart. But the answer was always the same. She was faithful to someone else, someone who was already a part of her life.

My hope turned into desperation. I didn’t want to give up, but each rejection left me more broken than before. The final time we met, just days after the New Year, was the most painful of all.

“Robert,” she said, her voice filled with frustration and hurt. “If you truly love me, why won’t you let me go? Why don’t you give me the freedom I deserve? From today, I realize that you are HEARTLESS.”

Her words pierced me like a dagger. Heartless. Was that who I had become? A man so consumed by his love for her that he couldn’t see the pain he was causing?

I stumbled home, my mind clouded with shame and sorrow. I locked myself in my room, unable to face the world. The emptiness inside me was overwhelming.

I had no choice but to kneel down from my chair, staring up at the ceiling, slowly closing my eyes, bowing my head, and remaining silent for a moment. Then, a thought hit me hard: "The more I tell her I love her, the more she hates me!" Goosebumps crawled across my skin as I broke out in a cold sweat, still kneeling on the cold floor.

In that moment, feeling utterly helpless, I prayed to God for guidance. "My Jesus, is she not the one for me? Why have I held onto this hope for seven years? If you exist, why am I suffering like this?"

Tears began to flow. "Lord, I need your help now! In the past, I asked for wisdom for my career and studies, but today it’s different. I need you... I need your help. Honestly, I love Jane, but she hates me. I’ve heard her say it, and I’ve seen it with my own eyes!"

I collapsed onto the floor, exhausted, breathing heavily as if I had just finished a long, grueling task. As I lay there, eyes closed, I suddenly heard a voice calling to me deep within.

"Robert..." The voice echoed softly, as if from a distance.

"Robert!" The voice was louder now, calling me more urgently.

I lifted my head, listening intently as though someone were actually calling my name. I waited, hoping for another voice, but there was only silence. I rested my head back on the floor again, and that same voice called to me once more. It became clear that the voice wasn’t coming from anyone else—it was coming from within me.

"Robert, do you really love her?" the voice asked.

"Yes, I love her," I answered in my heart.

"Then, do you love me?" the voice asked again.

I was taken aback by the question. "Am I losing my mind?" I wondered to myself.

The voice continued, "I’ve told you that I love you. Yet, the more I’ve shown my love, the more you’ve turned away. I love you, Robert. I died on the cross for you. I’ve paid for your sins and given you everything you need. I was crowned with thorns because of your pride, beaten and struck, unrecognizable as the ugliest man on earth. I carried your cross to Golgotha, and I was crucified and died for you. Do you remember me? Robert, I still love you, just as you love Jane. Robert, do you love me?"

Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t find the words to speak—there was too much to say. All I could do was cry out, as loudly as I could.

After a while, exhausted from crying, my voice faltered, and I could no longer shout. Then, I heard knocks at the door. My parents were calling to me, urging me to open it. I could hear my mother crying, begging me to answer. But I had no strength to move.

In desperation, they broke the door down and rushed inside. "Oh, my son, what’s happening?" My mother’s voice trembled as she lifted my head, kissed me, and embraced me.

My father, with all his strength, carried me to the living room, doing everything he could to comfort me. I eventually lost consciousness from the emotional strain.

In the days that followed, I found a peace I had never known before. The pain of unrequited love was still there, but it no longer consumed me. Jane had taught me what it meant to love, but God had shown me what it meant to be loved.

When I finally saw Jane again, I asked for her forgiveness—not for loving her, but for the way my love had burdened her. I thanked her for being a part of my journey, for leading me to the greatest love of all.

Today, Jane and I are friends, bonded not by romantic love but by the love of Christ. She will always hold a special place in my heart, but eadmy heart now belongs entirely to God.

Through the pain and rejection, I found my purpose. I began writing, praying, and sharing my testimony with others. The love I once felt for Jane has transformed into a love that seeks to give, not take—a love that mirrors the boundless love of my Savior.

This is my story, a journey of heartbreak and healing, of human love and divine grace. It is a story of how one unfulfilled desire led me to the fulfillment of my soul.

A New Beginning

And so, this story—woven from the threads of my life—comes to a close. Through the years, I have become a writer, pouring my thoughts and emotions into pages, giving life to characters and worlds born from my heart. But this tale, unlike the others, holds a deeper meaning, a personal connection that I have never shared before.

"Jane," "Robert," and "Chris" are names I chose to protect those who once shaped my journey, their true identities hidden behind these carefully chosen words. In sharing this, I am not only telling the story of others, but the story of myself—of the lessons learned, the love lost, and the strength gained.

This chapter is now written, but my life continues to unfold. The pen is still in my hand, and there are countless more stories to tell. As I continue on this journey of self-discovery and writing, I know that each word, each story, will bring me closer to understanding who I am and the legacy I wish to leave behind.

The past is part of me, but the future is where my heart lies.

Would yoy live to listen the song? If yes, here it is: