Thinking 🤔 heart

My first semester in the hostel was supposed to be about classes, new friends, and adjusting to a new life. But instead, it became about him — Drake.

He lived in the same hostel, always around in the lounge or hallways. Tall, light-skinned, handsome — the kind of boy who stood out without even trying. Yet, for all the times I saw him, we never really talked. All we ever shared were simple greetings.

Still, I found myself waiting, hoping for more. I noticed how he laughed, how he walked, how he carried himself. To him, I might have been just another hostel mate. But to me, he was becoming the center of my first semester.

I told my roommate, Sandra, and my close friends about my crush. They teased me, encouraged me, told me to go and talk to him. But I was too shy. Deep down, I believed it was a man’s role to walk up to a woman, not the other way around. So I stayed silent, even though my heart longed for something more.

One night, I nervously asked Sandra and her friends if they liked him. They laughed and said no. My heart quietly soared — it felt like I had him all to myself, at least in the secret world of my feelings.

The semester passed like that: smiles, greetings, secret glances, and endless waiting. I thought it would all end there. But when we went home for the holiday, something unexpected happened.

One evening, my phone lit up — it was Drake. He had finally chatted me up. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. After all those months of silence, he was the one reaching out to me. I was so happy I could barely type.

I wanted to run and tell Sandra, to show her the messages. But instead, I deleted them. Maybe I was scared, maybe I wanted to keep it just for myself. The proof was gone from my phone, but not from my heart. Those words, that moment, were mine to treasure.

After a week during the holiday, our chats had become the best part of my days. I would wake up and check my phone first thing, hoping to see his name waiting for me. Back in the hostel, we had barely spoken beyond greetings. But here, through a screen, he was opening up piece by piece.

Then one afternoon, Sandra suddenly asked me, “Did he chat you up?”

I froze. How did she know? I had never told her. Before I could even gather my thoughts, she told me that both of them — Sandra and Drake — were talking.

I felt a rush of anger, though I tried to hide it. After all those weeks of secretly waiting, of treasuring each message, it felt like she had stepped into something that belonged only to me. But as days passed, the anger began to fade. I let it go, or at least I pretended to.

To me, I grew closer to Drake. The more we chatted, the more I felt connected in a way I had never expected. He wasn’t just the handsome boy from the hostel anymore — he was someone I could laugh with, someone I could open up to.

But something was off. Even as we grew closer, there were moments that didn’t sit right. Sometimes his replies felt distant, sometimes delayed. I tried to ignore the doubt in my chest.

One evening, he suddenly asked me, “So… who’s your crush?”

My heart pounded. I couldn’t tell him the truth, so I told him to guess. He did, but got it wrong. To cover my nervousness, I asked him back, “And who’s yours?”

After a pause, his reply came. Sandra.

I felt my chest tighten, my whole world shatter. Still, I forced a smiley face and typed, “Congratulations.”

He laughed and told me I should talk to her. And so I did — little did I know she had been waiting for that moment. She looked me in the eyes and asked, “Do you still have a crush on him?”

I lied. I said no. She nodded quickly, almost like she expected it. But inside, I was breaking.

The holiday ended, and we returned to the hostel. The same halls, the same rooms — but everything felt different now. Every time I saw Drake, my chest tightened. And every time I saw Sandra and him together, it felt like my secret heartache was being dragged into the open.

One night, I went out by the hostel well to clear my head. But there they were — Sandra and Drake, showing their closeness in front of me. I stood by the well, my eyes burning, my chest heavy, wishing I could disappear. For a moment, the pain was so sharp it felt like the well itself was calling me. But I stayed. Silent, hidden, carrying the weight of a love that was never mine.