People say love hurts when it ends. I think it hurts far more when it never even begins.

I watch him smile every day. Sometimes he hugs me, ruffles my hair, or asks how my day was. Anyone else would probably think I'm lucky. They would believe that someone who treats me with so much affection must feel something special for me.

But I know the truth.

I'm not special.

He's simply that kind to the people he cares about... and I only have the privilege of being close to him. Nothing more.

There are hugs that should never exist. Not because they hurt while you're receiving them, but because they leave an unbearable emptiness once you remember they don't mean the same thing to the other person.

Every time his arms wrap around me, I close my eyes for just a second. In that brief moment, I imagine a world where that embrace belongs to me. A world where no one else exists. A world where I can hold his hand without fear and call him mine.

Then I open my eyes again.

Reality always finds a way to shatter dreams.

His attention shifts, and a different kind of smile appears on his face. A smile that is never meant for me.

It's for the person who occupies the place my heart has imagined a thousand times. The one who receives everything I can only dream about.

I only receive the kindness he offers to the people he cares about.

And that should be enough.

But it isn't.

It can never be enough when your heart wants more than it can ever have.

Sometimes I wonder when it all began. Maybe it was the way he remembered the smallest details about me. Maybe it was the peace I found whenever I was by his side. Or perhaps it was the way he said my name, making me feel, if only for a moment, as though I truly mattered.

How ironic.

I matter to him.

Just not in the way I wish I did.

I hate myself a little for feeling jealous. Because his partner has never done anything wrong to me. They never took something that belonged to me.

He was never mine.

You can't lose something that was never yours.

And yet, it hurts as if someone had torn a piece of my heart away.

There are days when I convince myself that I'm finally moving on. I tell myself it's only admiration. I promise I'll stop looking at him so much, stop waiting for every little sign of affection, stop letting a simple smile fill me with hope.

But all it takes is one more hug for every promise to fall apart.

I hide the trembling in my hands.

I pretend my heart isn't breaking while I feel him close to me.

He will never know what those small gestures mean to me.

He will never know that I've spent countless nights imagining an impossible future.

He will never know that, the moment he walks away, the cold returns, and the silence becomes heavier than words.

I simply watch him from a distance, smiling like a coward so no one notices that, deep inside, I've been falling apart for a very long time.

Because sometimes, loving someone means exactly that.

Remaining silent.

Learning to live with a heart that beats for someone who can never love you back.

Smiling while someone else holds the place you dreamed of having.

And understanding, no matter how much it hurts, that some people come into your life only to teach you how deeply you are capable of loving... even if they will never be yours.