What I never said.

I never said any of this out loud, and there were good reasons for that. You never asked for my attention, and I didn't want to hand you something you'd have to carry.

The feeling didn't arrive suddenly. It grew the slow way — through small conversations, ordinary lectures, and the simple experience of watching someone be consistently decent.

I kept it to myself for a year because silence felt more respectful than a confession you hadn't invited. But keeping it quiet forever started to feel like a different kind of dishonesty.

So this is only that: honesty, offered once, with no expectation attached to it. You are not responsible for how I feel. You never were.