Dear dine,

Dear Dines,

I don't really know how to begin this, because there are so many things I have felt for so long and never said out loud.

I have loved you for five years. Quietly, patiently, and in a way that never asked for anything in return. I don't think I ever expected you to feel the same, but I still found myself hoping - always hoping - that maybe, one day, our paths would finally meet in the same way our hearts did.

There is something I have carried with me for a long time. I don't know if you ever noticed, or if it ever meant anything to you, but for me, every moment around you has stayed with me longer than I can explain.

One evening outside the café, when you were hurt and not yourself, all I wanted was to make you feel safe again. I remember gently touching your hair and your face, trying to calm you, telling you that things would get better in the morning and that whatever you were carrying would pass.

In that moment, you tried to kiss me.

And I won't lie - part of me wanted to stay there forever in that second, because it was you. But I also knew I couldn't let something so important to me happen while you weren't fully yourself. I wanted something real, something clear, something we could both remember without confusion.

So I stepped back.

Since that night, I keep wondering about one thing. Not because I regret caring for you, but because I care too much not to wonder:

What would have happened if that moment had been different?

I don't know if you ever saw me the way I saw you. Maybe you didn't. Maybe you couldn't. But I needed to say this at least once, even if it never changes anything between us.

I loved you. I still do, in a way that is quiet but never really leaves.

Take care of yourself, Dines.

Azra