To The People We Crush On, But Never Tell

Priscilla Westra
Priscilla Westra


That’s one word I was able to say to you twice.

How are you?

That’s three words I was never able to utter; three words that should have started a conversation, but too bad they never left my mouth.

This is a letter I’m not even sure you’ll come across to read. This is a letter I’ll never send to you personally, but I’m writing it anyway, even though I’m not really good at writing letters.

The first time I saw you, you seemed like the type of person who is silent and invisible, but not to those who know you, or to those who found you interesting – I, myself, included. You intrigued me so much and I didn’t even know why. You just did, but your silence and mystery were so resonating that they were able to build walls around you – walls that surely can be broken down; I might not just had enough courage to do so.

Every time I looked at you, I thought of what could possibly be running through your head. You had those eyes that seemed tired and distracted by your thoughts, but I liked them anyway. I wondered if you were distracted by the same kind of thoughts that had always gotten me preoccupied. On the very rare occasions that I saw you, I was always thinking if I should walk by and say hi, or if I could even stay and drop a few questions – but I never did. You seemed like you needed time alone. You seemed like you couldn’t be bothered, so I left you there in your silence, while my mind never let me get enough sleep thinking about all the what if’s.

I have been thinking about you. I wondered if you liked it when it rains because you’ll have more excuse to drink more coffee. I wondered if you liked poetry or ever written one. I wish I could have you read mine. I wish you’d know that I wrote about you and find that flattering, but a part of me thinks that you will probably get weirded out, so I made everything subtle. I was never good at profession, anyway.

I have been hearing about your accomplishments, too. They are some pretty great accomplishments, I have to say. I wanted to congratulate you every single time, but I didn’t know how. And to be fair, I am generally just not a good conversation starter. Nevertheless, if you’ll ever get to read this, I guess here’s my chance. Congratulations! You are doing a great job and I am pretty sure you’ll get to where you want to be.

I also would like to let you know that for more than a year, I have waited – for enough courage, for the proper timing, and even for a miracle that you’ll be the one to come closer.

I am an extremely impatient person, and it honestly amazes me how long I’ve waited – to no avail. I still am now, but the end is nearing and I am really just trying to get into terms with the fact that you are there and I am here. And darling, I don’t think I have ever been so far away from someone so close.

I know that you might never remember or think of me again. Perhaps I’ll always be the girl who wanted a chance at knowing you but wasn’t brave enough to move closer. Maybe we were always meant to be far apart no matter how close we got to each other. But there will always be a part of me hoping that if fate permits, maybe we’ll meet again someday and maybe then, I’ll have the guts to say hi and you’ll say hi back. And maybe I’ll even be brave enough to ask you to stay so we can have a little chat.

Maybe you’ll stay and maybe that could be our beginning. Perhaps, long overdue, but perhaps just the perfect time.

PS: I pray to God about you. I hope you live a happy life and get everything that you’re working for. You deserve them. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Nica Rodriguez is an 18 year old student in Manila. She loves to write and hopes to publish her own book someday.

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