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The photo isn't mine. "Dear D, I really like you. It's fine if you don't reciprocate but atleast you know my true intentions. May our friendship stay the same. Padaba Taka." Those were some of the words I've wrote to you. Some of the words I've let out on a random midnight. Without direction, without context, I drafted a stupid letter. Yet, you didn't received it. Yet, until now, my feelings are unclear. I still have the letter. Before, it was heavy. Now, it's heavier. Which is weird for it's still the same ol' paper I've wrote my confession. The letters looked "wrong" and the words felt like it's a "different language". It's undeniable that you n' I like each other. But, we don't want to acknowledge it for we are scared on what would people think. I wonder, would we be together now if we had gather the courage to confess to each other? Would things turn out differently if we just owned up to our feelings? Looking back, I should've given you the letter; "take the risk". Now, I've finally moved on, but, you're still there. Waiting for me. You're still on the same page I've left you. We were both foolish to not get those words out of our chest. And, until now, I still remember everything written in that stupid letter.