“In the Silence of My Love”

I love you.

There — I said it. Not out loud, not to you,

but to the pages that always listen.

To the stars that blink above my lonely sky,

to the walls that echo only my heartbeat.

You don’t know, and maybe you never will.

But I love you.

Not in the way movies make love look easy—

this love of mine bleeds quietly.

It tiptoes behind every glance you never meant to give me,

smiles at every "hi" you threw like crumbs,

and breaks a little more

each time you pass me by without noticing

the way my eyes beg you to stay.

I know I’m not in your world the way you’re in mine.

To you, I might just be a friend—

or worse, a stranger standing on the edge

of the stage where you shine.

But to me?

You are everything.

You’re morning sun and midnight ache.

You’re the pause between breaths,

the name that sits quietly on the edge of every thought.

I’ve memorized the rhythm of your voice,

not because you speak to me often,

but because each time you do,

I replay it a thousand times,

so that silence doesn’t feel quite so cruel.

I notice things about you

that you probably don’t even notice about yourself.

Like how your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.

Or the way you run your fingers through your hair when you’re nervous.

The way your laughter rolls like soft thunder—

shaking something in me

that refuses to settle.

You are a beautiful chaos.

And I stand quietly at the edge,

watching the storm,

getting drenched in dreams

that were never meant to bloom.

I write about you, you know.

Not directly, not by name—

but in metaphors,

in the shape of sunsets and songs.

You live in my words

even when you don’t live in my world.

People say one-sided love is foolish.

That it’s like watering a dead flower,

hoping it’ll bloom.

But they don’t understand—

you were never a dead flower.

You were the garden I never could enter,

the locked door I still stand in front of,

palms full of poems

I was too afraid to give you.

I’ve watched you love others.

I’ve seen your eyes shine for someone else.

I’ve tasted heartbreak

in the form of silent tears

that slipped down unnoticed at midnight

while I scrolled past pictures

of you looking happy

in a world that didn’t need me.

And still,

I love you.

Even when it hurts.

Even when my heart begs me to let go.

Even when the rational parts of me scream

that I deserve more

than someone who doesn’t even look my way.

But love doesn’t always ask permission.

It doesn’t always make sense.

It just arrives—

uninvited,

uncontrollable,

and all-consuming.

I don’t want to be a martyr for love.

I don’t want to wear my heart like a wound.

But I also can’t pretend that you don’t move me.

That your name doesn’t feel like a prayer

on nights when the world feels heavy.

That I wouldn’t give anything

just to sit beside you

without this ache between us.

Sometimes I imagine telling you.

Just… laying it all bare.

Saying—

“I love you. I’ve loved you quietly for so long.”

But what then?

What happens after confession

if your silence is all I get in return?

I’m not afraid of rejection.

I’m afraid of losing even the little I have—

your casual hellos,

your effortless smiles,

the tiny moments that mean everything to me

and nothing to you.

So I love you from afar.

From behind curtains of laughter

and friendly conversations.

I bury my feelings in sarcasm

and hide my trembling hands

in the pockets of casualness.

Some days I wish I could unlove you.

Delete the part of me

that aches for your attention.

But love isn’t a switch.

It’s a wildfire—

and I?

I am the forest that keeps burning.

You’ve taught me things you’ll never know.

Patience.

Hope.

The strength it takes to carry a heart

that’s full of unspoken words.

You’ve shown me how love can exist

even when it’s invisible.

Even when it’s unanswered.

And maybe that’s okay.

Maybe love doesn’t always need an ending.

Maybe some loves are meant

to be poems

instead of promises.

Maybe some people

are just meant to be muses—

beautiful, untouchable,

loved in silence.

If I had one wish,

it wouldn’t be for you to love me back.

It would be for you to know—

just once—

how deeply, how completely,

you are loved.

Even if it’s not the kind of love

you were looking for.

Even if you never hold my hand

or say my name

the way I’ve said yours

in the quiet corners of my soul.

Just know…

someone out there

loves you in ways

words will always fail to capture.

Someone sees magic in you

even on your worst days.

Someone waits

for the sound of your voice

like a song

they never want to end.

And maybe that someone

will always remain a shadow

on the edge of your light.

But that’s okay.

Because even shadows

are cast by love.

……….Pookie……….