The Unread Letters For John (Revised Version)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 — The Unknown Guy

Love is chaotic.
Love is terrifying.

Yet somehow, in the midst of all its noise and confusion, love reveals itself—quietly, almost cruelly. And in that silence, it becomes something more: something unspoken. Something unrequited.

Months passed. My friends, ever observant and loud, began to notice how I stopped reacting to their usual teasing. I could now walk the same path as the boy they used to pair me with, without flinching. It wasn’t because I had grown braver… but because someone else had unknowingly occupied that space in my heart.

He was a classmate of my former crush—a complete stranger, really—but somehow, his presence mattered.

One afternoon, a friend confronted me.

“You like someone, don’t you?” she asked, eyeing me with suspicion.

I smiled, but said nothing. I wasn’t ready to share the name. They were loud and playful, and I feared the weight of my feelings might get tossed around like a joke. What if he found out? What if everything fell apart before it even began?

Still, she had a theory of her own.
“There’s this guy,” she said with a knowing grin, “his name was John. He used to be my classmate—he’s the kindest, most approachable guy in that section.”

I thought she liked him too, based on how she spoke of him. But I was wrong. He wasn’t her secret crush. She simply believed John could help me get closer to the one I liked. I wasn’t interested, not really. I didn’t even know what he looked like. So, I let the conversation pass and let my curiosity simmer in silence.

Until it didn’t.

I tried to find him online. Searched for his socials. But I found nothing. No photos. No posts. Just a name and a quiet account that felt like a locked door. Still, I sent him a friend request, unsure of what I was hoping to find.

To my surprise, he accepted within a few hours.
We were mutuals now—but I still had no idea what he looked like.

I left it at that. I wasn’t the type to chat with strangers online. Especially not someone I barely knew. But the way he always viewed my stories—consistently, silently—kept pulling me back. There was something mysterious about it. About him.

Eventually, curiosity won.

I messaged him. He replied quickly, warmly, like an old friend. I didn’t want to seem too forward, so I casually mentioned that I liked one of his classmates, even dropped the name. He didn’t judge me. In fact, he encouraged the conversation. It was easy—too easy. Before I knew it, we became friends. Real friends.

We talked almost daily. Online, of course. I had still never seen his face. But his words? His kindness? It was enough to build something with.

And that was where I messed up.

Because the more I talked to him, the more I laughed with him, the more I forgot the original reason I messaged him at all. He treated me kindly, never once made me feel weird, even when I asked the most ridiculous questions. He listened. He stayed.

That’s when I started to like him.
Not the classmate I thought I was chasing after.

Him.

I didn’t care what he looked like anymore. I just wanted to know him—not through the words he typed, but through the voice I’d never heard, the expressions I’d never seen.

But liking him felt wrong.
He was my friend. A good one.
And I didn’t want to ruin what we had by turning friendship into something selfish.

So I stayed silent. Every day I buried my feelings deeper, convinced that preserving the friendship was more important than confessing what had grown inside me.

Then one day, everything changed.

He mentioned, casually, that he would be joining a pageant for the upcoming school foundation day. It was rare for me to care about such things, but this time, I had a reason to go.

A day later, the school released the list of candidates—with photos.

And that’s when I saw him.
Same section. Same last name.
The initials in his socials finally made sense.

It was him.

It had been him all along.

The person I thought I was looking for was the very same person who had been beside me this whole time. The stranger I befriended. The boy behind the screen. The boy I liked.

John.

I felt my heart collapse on itself.

Love played its game well—twisting coincidences into cruel irony. I didn’t just fall for a stranger. I fell for my friend. The one who trusted me. The one I vowed not to hurt.

And now I was hurting for a reason I couldn't even tell him.

Love is cruel.
Love is unkind.
Love is unrequited.

And at that moment—I hated love.
I hated how it made me feel.
I hated how I fell for him.
.
.
.
.

Dear John,

Maybe love was never meant to be kind to someone like me—but even so, I want you to know this:
I’ve always valued our friendship more than anything else.

You were the only one who made me feel like I was normal. Like I wasn’t too much or too difficult to understand.
You made me feel safe to be myself—no masks, no pretenses. And that kind of comfort is rare, especially for someone like me.

I’m grateful, John. You accepted me as I am… and in return, I was ready to accept you too.
But I never expected that you—the friend I’d come to trust—were the same person I had been quietly looking for. The one I unknowingly liked from the beginning.

It was overwhelming.
I wanted to protect what we had, so I tried to bury those feelings—to stop the chaos that was building inside me.
Because friendships like ours? They're rare. And they’re worth protecting.

So no… you don’t need to return my feelings.
I already know where I stand in your life—just a random friend. And that’s okay.
I only ever wished to be someone you’d remember kindly.

I haven’t met you yet. Not face to face.
So for now, I’ll stay in your shadow—until the day I’m ready to show you who I really am.

It’s not fear of judgment that’s holding me back… it’s the fear that things might change once you know. That I might not be able to talk to you the same way anymore now that I’ve seen the full picture.

But please wait for me, John.

One day, I’ll gather the courage to step out of hiding.
And when that day comes, I’ll smile—confidently—and finally say hello,
as me.
Your friend.

Always,
—The Girl Who Stayed in the Shadows

-kzraem