I barely slept that night.
His last message kept replaying in my head.
Sometimes you don't realize someone's feelings until they become impossible to ignore.
I had read it so many times that I could probably recite it without looking at my phone.
But every time I tried to understand what he actually meant, my mind came up with a different answer.
Maybe he was talking about someone he knew.
Maybe he was talking about his own feelings.
Maybe he was simply giving me advice.
Or maybe…
I was once again creating a story out of a few words.
I turned around in bed and pulled the blanket over my head.
"No," I whispered. "Not again."
I had spent years learning not to expect anything.
I wasn't going to throw all of that away because of one mysterious message.
Eventually, exhaustion won.
---
The next morning, my alarm rang at 8.
I opened my eyes and immediately reached for my phone.
No new message.
I don't know why I felt disappointed.
I hadn't even expected one.
I put my phone aside and got ready for college.
While I was tying my hair, my phone buzzed.
It was my best friend.
Best Friend: Are you free around lunch?
I smiled.
Me: Why?
Best Friend: I have some work near your college today. Thought I'd come meet you for a little while.
My mood instantly became better.
We hadn't met properly in a while, and honestly, I needed her.
Me: YES. Come.
Best Friend: I'll call you when I reach.
I put my phone down.
Maybe today I could finally tell her everything.
Not through a rushed phone call.
Not through messages.
Face to face.
Because I knew she would immediately understand why I was confused.
---
College was busy as usual.
Classes, practicals, notes, assignments.
I tried to concentrate, but my mind kept wandering back to yesterday.
Every time my phone vibrated, I looked at it.
Nothing from him.
I told myself it was fine.
Then, during a short break, I finally received a message.
Him: Good morning.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
Me: *Good morning :) *
A few seconds later:
Him: Did you sleep well?
I laughed quietly.
Me: Not really.
Him: Why?
I stared at the screen.
Should I tell him?
Because you confused me.
Absolutely not.
Me: Nothing. Just didn't feel sleepy.
Him: Hmm.
I smiled.
There was something about the way he texted that made ordinary conversations feel strangely important.
Before I could reply, my roommate called me.
"Come on! We're getting late."
"I'm coming!"
I put my phone away.
But I couldn't stop smiling.
---
Around lunchtime, my best friend called.
"I'm outside."
I immediately went toward the entrance.
When I saw her, I smiled.
"You actually came!"
"Obviously."
She gave me a quick hug.
"I had some work nearby, so I thought, why not disturb you?"
"You're not disturbing me."
She looked at my face.
Then smiled.
"Okay. Something happened."
I laughed.
"You know me too well."
"Tell me."
We sat in a small café near the college for a while.
The moment we ordered something, she leaned forward.
"Now speak."
I took out my phone.
"Read this."
She took it from me.
Her eyes moved through our conversation.
She read the messages from yesterday.
When she reached his last line, her expression changed.
She looked at me.
"Okay."
I waited.
"What?"
"That is… interesting."
"Don't say that."
"I'm serious."
She handed the phone back.
"Why would he say something like that?"
"I don't know."
"Did you ask him?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"He said he was just curious."
She stared at me.
"Of course."
"What does that mean?"
"It means he knows exactly what he's doing."
I laughed nervously.
"Or maybe we're overthinking."
She shook her head.
"Maybe. But I don't think you should assume anything either."
I looked at her.
"That is exactly what I'm trying to do."
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
"Then don't. Let him tell you what he means."
I nodded.
Maybe she was right.
For once, I didn't need to solve everything myself.
---
After lunch, she left because she still had work to finish.
Before leaving, she turned around.
"And don't do anything stupid."
I frowned.
"What stupid thing?"
"Confessing your entire four-year love story because he sent you two mysterious messages."
I burst out laughing.
"I wasn't going to!"
"Good."
She smiled.
"Call me tonight."
"I will."
She left, and I returned to college.
For some reason, I felt lighter.
Maybe because I had finally talked to someone who knew the whole story.
---
The rest of the afternoon passed normally.
During practical, my senior friend sat beside me.
"You seem happier today."
I looked at him.
"Do I?"
"A little."
"My best friend came to meet me."
He smiled.
"That's nice."
I nodded.
Then he looked at me carefully.
"Everything okay?"
I hesitated.
"Yeah."
He didn't question me further.
That was what I liked about him.
He could tell when something was bothering me, but he never forced me to talk.
We continued working.
A little later, my phone vibrated.
I checked it.
It was him.
Him: Are you busy?
I replied:
Me: A little. Why?
Him: Nothing. Just wanted to talk.
I stared at the message.
Just wanted to talk.
My heart did something stupid again.
I typed:
Me: Okay. We can talk later.
His reply came quickly.
Him: Sure.
I put my phone away.
But I spent the rest of the practical wondering what he wanted to talk about.
---
That evening, I returned to my hostel and changed into comfortable clothes.
I had barely opened my notebook when my phone rang.
His name appeared on the screen.
I froze for a second.
Then answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey."
His voice sounded normal.
Almost too normal.
"How was your day?" he asked.
"Good. Busy."
"College?"
"Obviously."
He laughed.
We talked about random things for a few minutes.
Classes.
Teachers.
Our workload.
The trip.
Nothing serious.
Then there was a small silence.
I knew there was something else.
Finally, he said,
"Can I ask you something?"
I smiled nervously.
"You've been asking me a lot of questions lately."
He laughed.
"Maybe."
"So?"
He became quiet.
Then asked,
"Do you ever think about what would have happened if you had told someone how you felt years ago?"
My smile disappeared.
I knew exactly where this was going.
"Sometimes," I admitted.
"What do you think would have happened?"
"I don't know."
"Would you regret not telling them?"
I thought for a moment.
"Maybe."
"Why didn't you?"
I swallowed.
"Because I was scared."
"Of what?"
"Rejection."
He was quiet.
I continued.
"And losing the person completely."
There was silence on the other side.
Then he asked softly,
"Even if they might have felt the same?"
I didn't know what to say.
"Maybe."
He laughed quietly.
"That's complicated."
"You asked."
"I know."
Another pause.
Then I gathered courage.
"Can I ask you something now?"
"Sure."
"Yesterday… when you said someone's feelings can become impossible to ignore…"
He didn't say anything.
I continued.
"Were you talking about yourself?"
Silence.
My heart started pounding.
I waited.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Then he finally said,
"Why do you think that?"
"Because you keep asking me these questions."
He laughed softly.
"Maybe I'm trying to understand you."
"Understand what?"
"You."
I frowned.
"That doesn't answer my question."
"I know."
I smiled despite myself.
"You're avoiding it."
"Maybe."
"You really like saying maybe, don't you?"
He laughed.
"Maybe."
I shook my head.
"You're impossible."
"Maybe I am."
We both laughed.
But beneath the laughter, something had changed.
Neither of us said it.
Neither of us needed to.
There was a question sitting between us.
One that neither of us was brave enough to ask directly.
After a few more minutes, he said he had to go.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
The call ended.
I stared at my phone.
I should have felt relieved.
Instead, I felt more confused than before.
---
I tried studying.
Failed.
I tried watching something.
Failed.
Finally, I lay down and stared at the ceiling.
Maybe my best friend was right.
Maybe I shouldn't try to predict what he was thinking.
Maybe I should simply let things happen.
But then my phone vibrated.
I immediately picked it up.
A message from him.
Him: One last thing.
I sat up.
Me: What?
The typing bubble appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then finally—
Him: If the person you've been waiting for all these years suddenly told you he felt the same…
My heart stopped.
I didn't move.
Another message appeared.
Him: Would you still be afraid?
I stared at those words.
My hands suddenly felt cold.
For years, I had imagined hearing those exact words.
But I had never imagined what I would say when the moment actually came.
Because the truth was…
I was afraid.
Not of him.
Not of the answer.
I was afraid of what that answer could change.
I slowly opened the keyboard.
I typed:
I don't know.
Then deleted it.
I typed:
Maybe.
Deleted.
I typed:
Who are you talking about?
My finger hovered over send.
Then I stopped.
Because for the first time, I realized something.
Maybe I already knew the answer to that question.
Maybe I was just afraid to ask.
My phone vibrated again.
Another message.
Him: Take your time. You don't have to answer now.
I stared at the screen.
And somehow, those words scared me even more.
Because if he was only joking, he wouldn't have given me time.
If he was only curious, he wouldn't have asked twice.
And if he really meant what I thought he meant…
then maybe the story I had spent years believing was already changing.
I locked my phone and closed my eyes.
For years, I had waited for him.
But now that he seemed to be standing on the other side of that waiting…
I wasn't sure whether I was ready to take the first step.
And somewhere in my heart, one question kept repeating—
What if the person I had been waiting for… had been waiting for me too?