In A Room Full Of Bags, Would You Recognize Mine?

Every morning, I walk into class, just like everyone else. I set my bag down in its usual place — same worn straps, same slightly open zipper, same papers and noteboks tucked inside. It looks like all the others, nothing that stands out. If someone mixed all the bags together, would you recognize mine?

Sometimes, I wonder if the same question applies to me.

Because the truth is, I notice you. More than I should. More than I ever admit. I notice the way your sleeves are always slightly rolled up, like you can never quite get comfortable. I notice the way your lips press together when you’re trying not to laugh. I notice the way you tilt your head slightly when you’re lost in thought, like you’re seeing something no one else can.

I wonder if you ever notice me the same way.

If you’ve ever turned your head at the exact moment I was looking at you. If you’ve ever heard me say something and, just for a second, thought my voice sounded familiar.

It’s strange, isn’t it? To be near someone so often and still feel so far away. We exist in the same space, breathe the same air, hear the same lessons — but I wonder if I ever cross your mind the way you cross mine.

I don’t expect you to know. I don’t expect you to feel the same way. But if I could say just one thing, it would be this: in a room full of bags, I’d recognize yours without hesitation. Because in a room full of people, no matter how many there are, my eyes will always search for you first.

And yet, despite all of this, I still hope.

I hope that one day, in a quiet moment, you’ll look up and notice me. Not just as another classmate, not just as another presence in the room, but as someone who has been here all along. I hope that one day, our worlds will collide in a way that no longer feels like chance.

And maybe — just maybe — when that day comes, you won’t just recognize my bag in a crowded room.

You’ll recognize me too.