"I was aware of your presence. It was late, and I needed to cross the stream to return. That day, I was deeply unsettled, my emotions more disarrayed than usual. I didn't mean to be elusive but I was avoiding everything and everyone. As I approached the bridge and saw you there, I was struck with such admiration.
I don't know if it was my loneliness or if you were exceptionally bright that night. From that distance, you looked almost celestial, like a figure from a painting. Though you were turned away, I recognized your silhouette instantly. You were seated by the bridge, lost in a book.
I know it sounds foolish, but I was paralyzed, unable to intrude upon such a perfect moment. You were ethereal. I stood back hoping you would leave on your own, even though I was eager to cross to the other side. I couldn't bear to approach. I was afraid you might address me, so I remained still until you were gone."
"What are you saying?" He asked, his voice laced with disbelief as he absorbed her confession. The depth of her feelings struck him as a revelation. She had never shown such profound devotion before, even in his most desperate moments. "Then why didn't you tell me all this before? I was aching for your affection. Didn't you realize how much I longed for it?"
"I couldn't say anything," she said, her voice was trembling slightly. "Even now, it's difficult for me. When I hold someone in such high regard, I always end up keeping my distance. You were so perfect, so majestic and so beautiful, approaching you feels like it would tarnish that beauty with my person. I.…"
Her words faltered, choked by the weight of her emotions. She wanted to tell him how he was sweet, kind, and almost angelic. His brilliance was so overwhelming that she feared her own imperfections would obscure it. His light seemed to demand someone equally dazzling.
"I didn't feel I could ever match you," she said softly, her voice imbued with sorrow and shame.
"Is that really your answer?" His voice was edged with frustration and disbelief. He couldn't grasp why such a reason had kept her away for so long. He had never sensed her lack of confidence in herself. The extent of her self-doubt was a painful revelation. It was a surprise even. To him, she was the most brilliant woman he had ever known so he couldn't comprehend her reasonings.
"You know I loved you. I was there that day, waiting for you. And I don't believe you didn't know my intentions. I waited for hours, believing that your absence was your answer. I thought you didn't reciprocate my feelings. To hear now that from you now…"
"I'm sorry."
"I don't want to hear it," he interrupted, his voice heavy with exhaustion and hurt. "You've wounded me many times before, but to realize you never even tried to understand my feelings—that you decided we weren't a match and distanced yourself all on your own—it's unbearable. Did you ever consider being brave enough to come and ask me?" His gaze was intense, and she found it impossible to meet his eyes. The pain and disappointment in his expression were almost too much. "You've always been cruel and unfair, but this? If I had known any better, I would have... Long time ago I would…"
His voice trailed off, worn out by their endless emotional circles. He sighed in defeat, admitting he couldn't change her. "I'm too tired. I need to leave. It feels as though the more I pursue you, the more you evade me. The more I try to make it work, the more you seem to sabotage it. If you can't accept my feelings, then I don't know what to do further. You find endless reasons to push me away so fine. I'll leave. I refuse to come back to you this time."
His own words, heavy with pain, struck him like daggers but he spoke them nonetheless. "Let this be the end now. When you see me next, act as though you don't know me. You're quite adept at that, aren't you?"
"I…" She tried to interject, her heart pounding with the realization that he was serious. She saw the resolve in his eyes and understood he meant it. She wanted to stop him, to bridge the chasm between them, but her own insecurities held her back. The thought of not matching him, of failing in comparison to him, was almost too painful to bear. He saw her hesitation and the familiar self-doubt that had resurfaced. He had seen this look on her before but only now he understood its meaning. It pained him deeply to see the anguish on her face. He longed to hold her again, to forgive her again, to kiss her until all her focus was solely on him and her doubts would fade away, but he knew he couldn't force her to change with his affection. He had tried before, but her reluctance and hesitation were barriers he couldn't overcome. It was her struggle, and only she could change herself. The sad part was that he wasn't sure if she would try, for his sake.
"Farewell, Your Highness," he said, his tone chillingly detached, as though bidding farewell to a stranger. He bowed with respectful formality and walked out the door. As he left, her heart felt as though it had shattered. She collapsed back in her chair. "What have I done? Was it right to let him go?" she thought helplessly. She wanted to avoid weeping but couldn't help it now.
It was almost ironic how she had always believed this was how things were meant to be, yet this was hurting her greatly. Another person had walked away. She despised herself for it. She had vowed never to love again, to avoid the pain, but here she was, ensnared once more. In the end, she had to admit that she had loved him all along. She always knew it deep down but had never even worded it out to herself before. She was unbelievably stubborn. She had once again missed her chance. She had distanced herself, as she always did.