You watched him from afar, day after day—through class doors, across cafeteria tables, and from the back row during his presentations. He made ambition look beautiful. Every time he stood in front of people, you couldn’t help but admire how sure he was of himself.

He was the type of person who made you want to be better—not for him, but for yourself.

You never imagined confessing. Admiration felt enough. Even just seeing him pass by was enough to make your day feel brighter. But emotions like yours don’t stay small forever. Eventually, they demand to be known.

So one day, when the moment felt quiet enough and your heart couldn’t hold it anymore, you stood before him and said,

“I tried to be just someone who admired you quietly, but my heart never got the memo.”

And for the first time, he was the one caught off guard.