Late confessions

Funny how some confessions arrive when they no longer have a place to land. Ten years ago, I liked this girl so much I memorized the way she rolled her eyes at me. She was rude half the time, cold the other half, so I convinced myself she probably hated how obvious I was. Eventually I stopped trying. Treated her like a normal friend. Moved on. Grew up. Then life did that weird thing where it circles back. She messaged me recently and casually admitted she liked me too back then. Same years. Same moments. Same everything. I just stared at my screen thinking, “What am I supposed to do with this information now?” We both have our own people already. Our own lives. And maybe that’s what makes it sting a little more. Not because I still want her, but because somewhere in another version of our lives, maybe we would’ve worked if one of us had just been brave earlier. Ten years late is still a confession, I guess. Just not one that changes anything anymore.