Almost Love

Between What Was and What Might Be

I didn’t plan to tell him. Ever. Some things are better left buried, tucked away in the dark corners of memory, safe from the harsh light of now. But tonight, with the stars winking overhead like they knew something I didn’t, I felt brave—or maybe reckless. Either way, the truth had been pressing at my chest like a weight too heavy to keep inside.

I stared at my phone, my heart doing flips in my chest. The message was there, hanging in the air like a dare. I could feel the pressure of it, the words wanting to break free. Should I send it? Could I really tell him? After all this time?

I shifted on my bed, the soft rustle of my blanket beneath me barely audible. My room was still and quiet, save for the faint hum of the night outside, the distant whispers of crickets. The glow from my phone illuminated the darkness around me, casting long shadows across the walls. The silence pressed in, and I couldn’t help but feel a little... lonely in it. So, I tapped out a message to fill the void:

Hi!

Too casual. Too... normal.

You alive? You breathing?

There. A little playful. A little silly. Just enough to distract him from what I really wanted to say.

And then, finally, the reply: Assalamualaikum warahmatullah wabarakatuhu. His words were calm, gentle, like always. Like they could smooth over the nervous flutter in my stomach. The way he always spoke, like he had all the time in the world, made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I had a chance to say what had been sitting on my heart for too long.

Bismillah.

Here it goes.

I hit send before I could stop myself, fingers trembling with the weight of it:
I liked you. Back in SS2... or maybe SS3? I don’t even know. I just know I did. Dazz all.

The screen blinked back at me, waiting. My pulse pounded in my ears. My heart felt like it might burst. What if he didn’t even remember? What if I made a fool of myself?

And then, the response came, casual as ever.
Alright, it’s all good.

All good?

All good?

My breath caught in my throat. This wasn’t how I imagined it. This wasn’t how I’d built up the story in my head. I’d thought he’d gasp, or pause, or even tease me. Anything but... all good. So, I laughed. Not because I was amused, but because I had no idea what else to do.

“You’re dumb,” I sent back, my thumbs flying across the screen. “Dumb, still you.”

He didn’t reply immediately. Was he processing? Wondering how to handle the fact that I had been holding onto this secret all these years? Or maybe he was just typing slowly, savoring the moment before he hit me with the classic “I’m flattered, but...”

But he didn’t. He just said it.

“Yeah, I’m pretty dumb, huh?”

And that was it. He was too calm. Too... calm.

My heart skipped. “Is that all you’ve got to say?” I demanded, half-amused, half-exasperated. “After all this time, that’s all?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “I’m flattered, though. Dumb old me, with an admirer. But it doesn’t matter now. It’s good that you told me.”

I could almost hear the shrug in his words, the lack of urgency, the coolness that was always there. But I couldn’t help myself—I had to push him a little.

“You didn’t even notice I liked you for a whole session, though,” I typed. “Like, not even a hint? I’m not even offended anymore. I’m just... impressed, honestly.”

“How was I supposed to notice?” His reply came fast, but there was a little laugh behind it. A little disbelief that maybe, just maybe, he’d missed something important.

Fair enough.

But there was something more, something in my chest that wouldn’t settle. I couldn’t leave it there. I needed to ask. I needed to know.

“So… did you ever like me?” The words felt too bold, too vulnerable, but they were out there now.

His response came, quiet and almost shy, the kind of reply you’d expect from someone who’d been holding onto a secret of their own.

“Yes,” he said. “For a while. I guess we were both blinded by our own stuff.”

A rush of warmth flooded me, too sudden, too fast. For a while? That meant something, didn’t it? It wasn’t just me.

I laughed softly to myself, hiding my smile behind the screen. “I had assignments, competitions, my head was full of everything but this. Not like I was looking for a relationship or anything.”

“Same here,” he admitted. “I guess I was just... clueless.”

“You’re still clueless,” I shot back, unable to resist.

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. “What can I say?”

I couldn’t help but smile. Even after all this time, even after all the unanswered questions and what-ifs, here we were. It wasn’t a love story, not yet. Not with the way life had kept us so far apart, so caught up in our own little worlds. But maybe, just maybe, it was a story of what could have been. Or what might still be. Who knows?

As I lay back against the softness of my pillow, the room still and quiet around me, I let my fingers trace the cool edges of my phone screen, as if trying to capture the feeling of the moment. A smile played at the corner of my lips, and I found myself drifting into daydreams of what if—those quiet moments where the heart speaks louder than logic.

But then again, maybe this was just the beginning of something new. Something we hadn’t even figured out yet.

And that was enough for now.

But first, let me give you the backstory… 😉