I Gave Her Everything, Even When I Knew I Shouldn’t

I’m from the Philippines, but I’ve been living in Washington for the past few years, teaching at a small school here.

I’ve been a teacher for nearly a decade. I love teaching—truly—but there’s one student who has made my life complicated in ways I never imagined. Her name is Sofia.

I know I shouldn’t feel the way I do. I know it’s wrong. But feelings don’t follow rules. And somehow, I’ve spent months, maybe even years, giving her everything I have—my attention, my time, my patience, my support—without expecting anything, or at least trying not to.

It started innocently enough. She was struggling with her English pronunciation, and I stayed after class to help. Then she had trouble with her assignments, and I gave her extra guidance. I made small gestures—notes of encouragement, reminders to eat, even lending her books and materials that weren’t required. It felt like normal teaching at first.

But slowly… slowly it became more. I started waiting for her messages. I worried when she didn’t answer. I noticed every little thing about her—the way she smiled, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the way she laughed at jokes that weren’t even funny.

I told myself it was nothing. I told myself I was just being a good teacher.

Then came the nights I stayed up worrying about her. The mornings I woke up thinking about what she might be doing. The afternoons I felt invisible to everyone else because my mind was always on her.

I gave her gifts. Small things—a notebook she liked, a coffee she mentioned once, a sweater when winter came. Nothing expensive, nothing inappropriate, just things to make her life a little easier. I thought it would be harmless, that it would be okay. I told myself it was kindness.

And yet, every time I smiled at her, every time I helped her, I secretly hoped—just a little—that she would notice me in a way that went beyond student and teacher.

I’m aware of how pathetic that sounds. I know the lines I’m crossing in my own heart. I know that if anyone found out how I truly felt, it would ruin everything—my career, my life, maybe even her perception of me. But feelings don’t listen to reason.

The worst part isn’t that she doesn’t love me. It’s that I keep convincing myself I’ll be okay with just being near her. I keep telling myself that my love doesn’t need reciprocation. I keep believing that if I give enough, she’ll finally see me.

I can see now how foolish it is. But knowing doesn’t stop me. I’m trapped in my own emotions, watching the line between care and obsession blur every day.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever stop being this way. If I’ll ever be able to give love without losing myself, or want someone without shrinking into invisibility.

I’ve spent so much time giving everything to someone who can never belong to me that I don’t even know what it feels like to receive.

My name is Marco. I’m a teacher from the Philippines. I live in Washington. And I’ve loved someone I shouldn’t have, too much, for far too long.