I went to meet him after college. He told me he was already there, so I grabbed some food and ate it on the way. I texted him that I had arrived and began walking downstairs, assuming he would be waiting below. Just then, as I stepped onto the staircase, I heard a notification sound and saw someone walking upward with his head lowered, texting. My immediate thought was that this person looked handsome. And then he lifted his face, and it was him.
This was the second time the exact same thing had happened. Once at the library, after weeks of not seeing him, I had caught sight of a cute guy and even texted my friends that I had found a new crush. Only later did I realize it had been him.
Maybe he fits my type a little, but now I think of him only as a companion, a friend. So whenever something like this happens, it startles me. It reminds me of how everything started. It makes me think about how strange it is that I somehow ended up with a conventionally attractive friend. I have never had a friend like that, and sometimes I worry about what people might assume. But I do not care anymore. I found a good friend, and that is what matters.
These are the thoughts that run through my mind whenever I see him walking toward me or when we are talking casually and someone I know passes by. It is not that people might assume we are dating that worries me. I am learning so much from him that such assumptions feel unimportant. It is that so many people look at him with admiration. Girls glance at him with the same look I once had. That look people give when they believe someone is unreachable. And now, to be part of his inner circle, someone he openly calls a good friend, makes me genuinely happy. Not proud in the sense of possession, not like I snatched someone impressive, but happy that the person I once admired quietly from afar is now someone I can meet freely and talk to without fear.
I am grateful I gathered the courage that day in the library to approach him, even though it was the first time I had ever done something like that. Even though it was embarrassing. Even though my voice shook. That moment changed everything.
He was wearing a black shirt that day, and I noticed it instantly. I had told him once that black suited him. He had sent me pictures from a trip, and in one of them he was wearing a black shirt with black pants. It suited him so well. I thought a lot about whether I should compliment him. I rarely compliment him, mostly as an inside joke because I do not want to inflate his ego. But at that time, I had told him how he did not wear his shirt properly, and in that black outfit, it did not look as odd. I felt like encouraging him to wear black would help him look more professional. A subtle correction, without actually correcting him. My brother once told me that compliments work on men, so that was my intention: an indirect way to help.
I usually avoid complimenting him, mostly because I do not want him thinking I like him. I did like him before, but now it is only friendship, and I never want him to misunderstand. He gets confessed to often because of his appearance and the aura he carries. I never wanted to add to that list. So, I sent that compliment casually, making sure it sounded light and nothing more.
Later, at his office, he showed us a picture of his team. I had been thinking of him only as a friend then and wanted to show a different side of myself, the silly side that simps after random cute people. The girl next to me did the same, so I finally had a chance to be normal and playful. He had just told us about an instructor he liked, so I thought I could joke too, saying I liked someone in the photo and that next time he could help me and I would help him.
That was the moment I made the biggest mistake.
I pointed at a guy in the picture. The guy looked foreign and cute. I said this person is cute, introduce me to him. He asked which one. I pointed again. He squinted. I pointed again. And after the third attempt he said, that is me.
I was mortified. Completely. I wanted to disappear, to dig a hole and vanish. I had accidentally complimented him again, just like the last time. And he was wearing black that day too, which made me wonder if he was doing it on purpose, teasing me because he knew I had embarrassed myself before.
Later, when we went to the café, he even showed me pictures of the instructor again and paused multiple times at the part of the video where he appeared. It made me laugh internally, but I pretended not to notice.
When I greeted him that day, he asked if I had read his message. I said no. He smiled and told me to read it. His message simply said he was home. We both laughed at how unnecessary it was, and then he guided me to the quiet area where he had been sitting. He offered me the seat opposite him, but I did not like that spot, so I sat facing the rest of the room. He talked about a book he had started and how he wanted me to issue it for him. He joked that it was the type of book I used to read. I said yes, but I did not like it anymore. He said he was looking for easy reading these days.
I told him about a mutual friend we had made at his office. Her name was Minabil, which I had kept getting wrong. I told him how she missed him and how he had transformed so many lives without even realizing it. I asked him why he had not told anyone he was leaving and why he left so quietly.
I also noticed he was using the bookmark I gave him. I did not think he would keep it, considering how much he believes in avoiding attachment. Seeing it tucked inside his book made me unexpectedly happy.
At the café, he brought out the heart I had drawn for him on a paper months ago. My friends and I had each drawn one, and he was supposed to complete the drawings. He still had not done mine. When I asked why, he said several things, but one line stayed with me.
He said, I will not finish it because I am leaving the door to my heart open for you to enter and exit as you please. I do not give that privilege to anyone, but for you I will. You can break my heart as much as you want, and I will still let you enter.
I asked what that meant. He said he was referring to our fight, how we stopped talking for a while and still he let me come back. He said he would always do that for me.
He told me that students at the university had suggested he start a YouTube channel and that they would handle everything for him. I was amused because I had once suggested the same thing. But he said he wanted to remain anonymous, something he had always told me before too.
He mentioned how he had been feeling very energetic earlier in the day but had been thinking a lot, so his energy was drained now. He showed me his journal filled with handwritten pages.
Our conversation drifted into unexpected places. He told me that he once gave ChatGPT a document of his life story and that the response shocked him. It said that someone living such a life would have broken under the weight of it. It said his story could be a book. I asked to read it, but he refused, saying he would only share parts of it so others could benefit.
We joked a little too. I teased him about how I used to say he would fund the NGO and I would run it, and that now I would be the one leaving too.
Somewhere in between, the topic shifted to crushes again. He mentioned the yoga instructor he liked. I teased him and told him he should ask her out. I told him having a small crush is healthy, that it motivates people. He agreed. Something happened in between that I do not fully remember, but then he said, maybe you are one of my casual crushes.
I was shocked. I could not come up with a comeback. It threw me off completely. Later that night, I realized I should have said that the instructor was his current crush, not me.
After that day, something strange happened. I had thought of him only as a friend and felt secure in that, but when I reached home, I could not help but feel a rush of attraction again. It scared me. The next day, I could not even look him in the eyes, but thankfully, the feeling faded quickly.
Our conversations that day reminded me of our early friendship. The casual atmosphere we once had was gone. We had shifted back into the dynamic of teacher and student. I think it was because of where we were. I was watching a series recently that mentioned something called the doorway effect. I looked it up, and ChatGPT said it was also known as context dependent memory and situational identity. When you enter a familiar environment, you revert to your original behavior.
And maybe that is what happened.
Being in that space with him brought back the earliest versions of us, the versions from the beginning, the teacher who explained everything and the girl who listened and tried to keep up, the two strangers who somehow became friends without even realizing it.
And maybe that is why everything felt both familiar and impossibly new.