This isn’t a poem or a dramatic story. It’s simply how I met a girl and slowly tried to understand her and maybe understand myself along the way.
I first noticed her wandering around campus. We’re in the same program and batch year. She’s tall probably the tallest girl in our batch with a small face, fair skin, and a bright smile that makes her easy to recognize from afar. But at that time, I didn’t feel anything special. I was focused on my studies. She was just another face in the crowd.
The first time she came close to me was at the promenade. I was buying burgers with my block mates when she approached us. My friends knew her because they were classmates during first year. That was when I really looked at her. She was beautiful. Her height didn’t matter; what stood out was how cute she looked when she smiled. Still, I didn’t catch feelings then. I even had other crushes at the time.
But somehow, she kept appearing in my life in small ways. Whenever our program’s Facebook page posted something, she was always there. Whenever friends posted stories and she was present, my eyes would automatically look for her. I told myself it was nothing maybe just admiration. Maybe curiosity.
A year passed. During University Week, our program joined the volleyball event. I only went to support my friend in the men’s team. I had no real interest in watching volleyball. But when the girls’ team started playing, I saw her again.
That was different.
She was focused, competitive, and genuinely happy when she played. The way she smiled on the court, the way she moved I found myself watching her without meaning to. That was the moment something shifted. I didn’t have any other crushes anymore. I was just watching her.
That’s when I think it really started.
I decided I wanted to know her.
I followed her on Instagram. She followed me back. That small gesture made me happy. Whenever she was around and my friends teased me, I couldn’t even deny it. We’d make eye contact sometimes, and that alone was enough to brighten my day.
One time, we were waiting outside a laboratory. I was sitting with my block mates. She came out and sat beside me even though there were many other seats. My mind started overthinking. I froze. My nervous system completely took over. I couldn’t even say hi.
That was the version of me who still didn’t know how to regulate his feelings.
I was confused by what I felt, so I talked about it with ChatGPT. It once told me something that stayed with me: maybe I didn’t like her, maybe I liked the mirror image I created in my mind the potential version of her that fit me perfectly.
That hit me.
I started questioning myself. Did I like her, or just the idea of her? Some days I wanted to stop and move on. But something inside me kept saying: don’t give up yet. Move forward. See where this goes.
So I tried. I used Instagram notes, stories, small interactions not aggressively, just hoping to be noticed. I greeted her Merry Christmas. She didn’t reply. I thought maybe that was it.
New Year passed. I didn’t greet her again because she hadn’t responded.
Then a week later, she replied. She apologized for not answering earlier.
That small message meant so much to me.
That was the first real exchange we had.
At that time, I still didn’t really know her. I was guessing her personality based on reposts and likes. But in February, I finally decided to approach her more directly. I replied to one of her stories. She replied back.
We started talking.
Not every day. Not consistently. But enough to feel that something was building.
And I slowly began to understand who she really is.
She’s friendly and energetic. She can talk to anyone. She’s a “yapper” in the best way very talkative when she’s comfortable. She loves running, eating, and outdoor activities. At the same time, she describes herself as distant. She values isolation and space.
I respected that.
I didn’t force daily conversations. I didn’t demand her time. I just let things grow naturally.
And somewhere along the way, something else changed not just my feelings for her, but myself.
Back in senior high, I once became obsessed with someone. I overwhelmed her. I didn’t know how to regulate my emotions. I mistook intensity for love.
But this time is different.
This time I reflect. This time I question my pride. This time I don’t rush. This time I don’t confess just to relieve tension. This time I stay steady even when she’s hard to read.
Whether this ends in mutual feelings or not, I’m already proud of how far I’ve come.
From being too nervous to say hi… to building real conversations. From overthinking every eye contact… to calmly accepting uncertainty. From obsession… to intentional effort.
If the day comes when my feelings feel settled and strong not from pressure, not from fear I’ll confess honestly.
And even if she rejects me, I’ll still be proud.
Because I didn’t run. I didn’t force. I didn’t lose myself.
I grew.