For Him

The day is drawing to a close. The spring sun is shedding its last warm glow, the clouds drifting across the sky slower than usual. She sits in her room and reflects on what has happened in her life recently. About those few months during which her entire life has gained meaning and radiance. Yes, it's true. She's met someone. Someone new. She felt something, it's so strange; she doesn't know why, it seems to her that she knows him well, that she understands him like no one else has before. Maybe that's why I'm writing what I'm writing, for the first time in a long time, with such extraordinary ease. Maybe he's given me hope, maybe the desire to renew something that has long since crumbled in my soul. She's thinking about him. Again. She should have abandoned these "hairy" thoughts long ago. But they stubbornly churn in her head and won't let me forget them.

Him. Only Him. The touch of His hand, the sound of His voice. He's not just another friend. How should I begin? "Hello"—too cliché, "Honey"? – No, he was never my love, even though I still desperately want him. So maybe I'll skip the introduction? I think I'll do just that. I put pen to paper and sketch the first words. And what was it like? Him. I first saw him in the school hallway. On the piece of paper in front of me is written: "Remember how it all started? Five months ago..."

Five months ago. I'm sitting at a friend's house, listening to some hip-hop. Yes, you wouldn't even know it, that first text message was the lyrics to a song: "I know we don't know each other and we don't talk, we pass each other so often, the only thing we have in common is the look you look at me, I look at you. It's not infatuation, I feel the feeling dormant inside me." That's how it all began. Such a trivial little text, yet it perfectly describes our relationship five months ago, on December 11th to be exact. This was supposed to be another one of my pranks. I never thought it would end like this, but actually, it didn't; it's still going on... The conversations on GG, the smiles in the hallways, it made me unconsciously fall deeper and deeper with each passing day. I told my friends that you were one of a kind (remember how at the beginning you always said you were 20%). One day, we were walking home from school and bought bananas on the way. I had one with a "Chikita" sticker, and it might seem funny, but I associated it with you. Because, after all, a "Chikita" is unique. I never told you this, but my friends and I still call you "Chikita." Through this letter, you'll learn many more things you didn't know before. I don't know why I felt the need to tell you this, nor do I know why I chose this particular format. You can do with this knowledge whatever you want, and my heart will be lighter. You might think I'm a coward, but believe me, I simply can't tell you this to your face. If something inside me ever breaks, I'll run to you and tell you again.

Do you remember the first time we walked home from school together? It was a Wednesday, I don't remember the date. We were walking through the market square, then across the bridge, and it was snowing constantly. Do you remember you asking me if I liked snow? How many times did I lie in a snowdrift after that? You suggested I act in a movie. Honestly, I was shocked. When you told me I should write a script, you killed me; you know I'd never done that before. But I wrote a movie script for you, the first script I'd ever written. I did it to the best of my ability. You really liked it. That movie never came to fruition, I don't know why. It doesn't matter. I'll never forget the first time I was at your house. I met Tofik and Kasia then. I visited you many times after that; I'll never forget those visits. I didn't know what was happening to me then, when you grabbed my hand, hugged me... I had no idea how to perceive those gestures, but I surrendered to them like a child needing tenderness. It was those careless gestures of your hands that defined the limits of my happiness, divided reality in two. Yet, I was constantly aware that I wasn't the only one being blessed with your touch. There was also SHE, and it was SHE who was most important to you, for SHE you were the most tender, the best, SHE you loved. Despite this, I still had the feeling that if it weren't for SHE, you would have become even closer to me. It may seem idiotic, but I still hope it will finally happen. Hope is the mother of fools, but it's the last to die. I don't know if mine has died yet, probably not, but it's on the verge of exhaustion. When I get out of bed in the morning, when I eat breakfast, on the way to school, during lessons, during every break, at dinner, when I go to bed, and even in my dreams, I think of you every moment. You called me your sister once. I don't think you'll ever realize how much joy you brought me with that one word. After all, being your sister isn't just a word.

The page isn't empty anymore. It's adorned with a story. A story about them. But that's only the beginning.

Do you remember our conversations? Usually about love... There's so much I want to tell you, but I'm at a loss for words. I remember the first time you called me. We talked for about two hours. I've never understood each other so well with any friend. I remember you texting me on IG that I was so much like you, that we thought the same way and had very similar worldviews. I was so glad you thought so.

I'll never forget the day you called me "kitten." I felt butterflies in my stomach when you said those words. I used to call you that too. You were my kitty, and you still are. I thought you only called me that; I didn't know then how wrong I was.

That day was overcast, and it was about to rain. We arranged to meet at your place at eight. I was supposed to come get my sleeping bag. I rang the doorbell, but you weren't home. I was quite surprised, after all, we'd agreed. It started raining. On my way home, I met you. It turned out you'd been picking up paper for our magazine. You got wet too. We were standing on your staircase, chatting about nothing, as usual. Suddenly, you received a text message. You read it, and a smile spread across your face. I knew it was her. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw you replying, "Kitten..." something else. Then I felt my eyes water. But instead of tears, I felt a stream of regret in my heart, thin as tears, yet burning like fire. I realized it wasn't just me you were talking to. But after all, she belongs to you; I have no right to even think about you. I made up an excuse and quickly ran away. On the way home, so many thoughts raced through my head, so many conflicting feelings tore at my soul. I realized you would never be mine, that all your gestures and words truly meant nothing. I remember once sitting on a bench by the San River, and you said you regretted not having met me earlier. How was I supposed to understand your words? I don't want to add my own interpretation; you can probably guess what it would be. At the retreat, everyone asked me if we had anything in common? Of course, I said no, although some people still think you were my real brother. Remember how we kept telling Edyta we were siblings, and she believed every word we said. I was happy when I was by your side, and when you disappeared, I wanted to run after you and tell you how much I needed you. But my head won out over my heart. Finally, I decided I'd had enough of this life of uncertainty. I went to Przeworsk for Youth Day and decided that during that time, I wouldn't think about you even once. Of course, I failed. On my first day, I met Tofik, and you immediately came to mind. Then, in the store, a mother was calling out to her son, who had the same name as you, and at the concert, the guitarist had the same guitar as you, and in your favorite color, too. I was furious with myself; again, I kept thinking about you. At the end, they handed out crosses to everyone, and then I thought of you too and took an extra one. I really wanted you to have something from me. You were so surprised that I remembered you. And yet, I remember you all the time. Every moment of my life is filled to the brim with you. You once sent me a file with your photos. And you know, every time I miss you in the hallway, when I don't see you for a long time, I open that file and look at your photo, at your smile. It's so lovely. I could look at it forever and never get tired of it. It's so sincere... like the smile of an angel. And I still feel lost, constantly searching for those true friends and their genuine smiles.I keep getting lost in my search on winding roads.

I've saved the most important words for the end of my story. Honestly, I recently realized how I truly feel about you. I didn't know I'd been in love with you for a long time. And don't tell me it's infatuation, because my heart knows perfectly well it's found another heart, and it also knows this heart belongs to someone else. My feelings are immense, but I realize you'll never reciprocate. So I suffer... but if love is measured by the amount of suffering, then perhaps there's never been a love like mine in the world. Don't think I'm trying to force you to do anything with these words. No. Because the heart isn't a servant. I want you to know this, and I'm asking you not to change and to continue being my brother. I probably don't need to tell you that I would be the happiest person in the world if we were together. But I know that's impossible, because your heart is filled to the brim with love for someone else. I've learned to live with this awareness, but I can't accept it. If I ever do something stupid and hopeless, remember that love makes people do insane and bizarre things, things they couldn't have imagined in a million years. It happens; it can't be helped. I want to thank you for being YOU, for all the smiles and kind words. I want you to know that meeting you opened the most wonderful chapter in my life. But I also ask that nothing change between us. It's fine the way it is. You're happy, and that's the most important thing to me. Do with this letter what you want. You can throw it away, you can burn it, you can keep it. Don't reply, I don't want that. Remember, I'll always be with you, no matter what happens. You've become a mystical point in my life where all memories, desires, and hopes gather, a bonfire without which life would have no flavor or even meaning.

Remember, if one day you feel like crying, call me; I don't promise to make you laugh, but I can cry with you. If one day you want to run away, call me; I don't promise to stop you, but I can run with you. If one day you don't want to listen to anyone, call me; I promise to be with you then, and I promise to be close. But if one day you call and no one answers, run to me very quickly, I might need you very much then.

And remember: Never, never stop smiling. Even if you're sad. You never know who might fall in love with your smile.

Two tears fall on the note. You shouldn't. "Why am I writing this...? Or rather, why?... I hope that someday you'll feel something for me too..." She stops and seals the envelope. She goes to him, puts the envelope in the mailbox, and leaves.

She wakes up. A blank note lies on the table in front of her...