I never gave him the letter.
I tore it out of my notebook, ready to throw it away.
But in the end, I couldn't.
So I hid it.
Deep inside my bag, where it would never see the light of day.
Where my feelings would stay buried forever.
And sometimes, late at night, I wonder—
What if I had been braver?
What if I had told him the truth?
Would things have been different?
Would we still be friends?
Would he… have liked me back?
But it doesn't matter now.
Because it's too late.
And some things are never meant to be.