It’s All His Mistake

By Roshan Tara

There was a boy I had a crush on

not the silly kind you grow out of.

No, this one stayed.

It grew quietly, like ivy climbing a wall

I never meant to build.

I don’t remember the first time we met.

When I became aware of my own heart,

he was already there.

Like a constant background sound

something soft, something safe.

I don’t know what made me fall for him.

Maybe it was how kind he was to everyone,

how his laughter made the air feel lighter,

or maybe the way his eyes softened

when he listened.

And that smile

that smile could undo me.

He felt unreal sometimes,

like a character from a romance novel

I used to read before bed.

One of those boys who don’t exist

outside the page.

Except he did.

And I loved him for it.

I liked him.

I admired him.

I loved him—quietly, endlessly.

But he never knew.

To him, I was just a friend.

And isn’t that word the cruelest thing?

“Friend.”

How it pretends to be gentle

while it rips you open from the inside.

I kept waiting

days turning into months,

months into years

for something,

anything,

that might make him see me differently.

Even just a little.

But nothing changed.

He was kind,

always kind,

and that kindness was my curse.

It gave me hope when I should’ve let go.

It’s all his mistake, really.

He shouldn’t have smiled like that.

He shouldn’t have been so warm.

He shouldn’t have made me believe

that maybe, someday,

he could love me too.

And yet

if I could go back,

I wouldn’t unlove him.

Because even if it hurts,

even if it never meant the same to him,

he made my heart feel alive.

And that’s something,

isn’t it?

By Roshan Tara