Confession for Her

I kept searching for your presence, hoping you would be there to listen, to make me feel lighter, to ease the anxiety that has been consuming me. Sadly, during those moments when I needed you most, you weren’t approachable, and that absence left me feeling more alone than I ever expected.

During our time in Medina, I remember how I was constantly waiting for you to come online. Every single day, I held onto the hope that I could share my stories with you—the little details of my life, the joy I felt during our outings, the simple moments I thought would make you smile.

You were always on my mind, and the excitement of telling you about my day kept me going. But as the hours passed, that excitement slowly turned into sadness.

I felt lonely, empty, and disconnected because I couldn’t feel your presence. It was like reaching out into the void, waiting for someone who never came.

And before we even returned from Medina, I discovered something that broke me even more. I found out that someone I trusted deeply—someone I thought would never hurt me—spoke words that cut me to the core.

They treated my friend unfairly, and worse, they criticized my insecurities in ways I couldn’t forget. That betrayal was unbearable. Even now, I still feel nauseous whenever I recall those moments. It was a wound that never healed.

And in the middle of that pain, do you know who came to my mind first? You, Chiene. Only you. Because despite everything, you were the one person who made me feel safe.

Talking to you was like finding shelter in the middle of a storm. You were the person I thought I could always turn to whenever I had emotions I couldn’t handle alone. But then, you chose not to appear.

You told me before that you were not like others—that you wouldn’t leave me when I was struggling. You promised me that whenever I had a problem, I could approach you. That promise gave me hope, it gave me strength.

But now, I can’t help but ask: why? Why does it feel like you’ve become the very person you said you wouldn’t be? Why does it feel like you left me when I needed you most?

Well... I’ve always liked you Ritchiene, I've liked you ever since I've gotten to know you. The way your eyes reflect light—like brilliant stars—was the first thing I noticed. But as time passed, I realized it wasn’t just about how pretty you are.

You’re different. There’s something in you I haven’t seen in others, something quiet but genuine, something that stayed with me even when you weren’t around.

In the most selfish way, I hope no one admires you as deeply as I do. I hope no one else notices the quiet glow in your eyes, the way your presence softens the air, or the unspoken warmth you carry like a hidden flame.

I want my admiration to remain unmatched, a secret devotion that belongs only to me, because the thought of others cherishing you with the same intensity feels like losing pieces of myself.

If love is a garden, then let mine be the only flower that bends toward your light, the only one that waits for your seasons, the only one that refuses to wither even when the sun hides.

And because of that, I’m scared. I’m afraid you’ll leave too, just like the others did. I know it might sound unreasonable since I’ve only known you for a few months, but feelings don’t always follow logic.

In those six months, you showed me something I rarely feel from people—a kind of understanding, a presence, a way of being that felt real and unforced. I learned something from you that I never found elsewhere.

I grew genuinely fond of you, and with that fondness came fear. I don’t want you to become just another fragment floating in my mind, another memory I replay late at night, wondering what could’ve been.

I know you’re someone who tends to avoid people sometimes, with or without a reason. I understand that you protect your space, and I respect that. I’m not asking for perfection or certainty.

I want to keep things the way they are, or at least not end them so suddenly. I don’t want to cut ties and pretend it didn’t matter, because to me, it does.

I’m okay if waiting means hurting, if the path between us is uncertain and the future unclear. Maybe it sounds a little obsessive, but it’s simply the truth—I want to know who Ritchiene really is.

And if knowing you more means waiting, then I’ll wait. Not with rushing, not with restless obsession, but with patience, with quiet faith, and with the help of God.

Because to me, not loving you feels like a kind of blasphemy—like denying something sacred that was placed in my heart for a reason.

So here I am, still waiting. Waiting for you—the Ritchiene who once made me feel safe, the Ritchiene whose presence gave me comfort. I still think of you, and when I do, I can almost hear your voice, feel your presence, and remember the warmth you once gave me.

Even if life keeps moving forward, even if time keeps pulling us apart, I know I’ll carry these feelings until the day life itself decides when I stop breathing.

Because no matter what, you were, and still are, someone I can’t easily forget—like a butterfly that never truly leaves the garden, always circling back to the flowers it once loved.

Delicate yet unforgettable, carrying beauty in its silence and leaving traces of color in the air long after it has flown away.

This is how I will always see you, Chiene. Not as someone I know, but as someone who made me feel safe, someone whose presence give me comfort, and someone whose memory will always linger in my heart.