Being noticed

I have always believed myself as an observer, but not someone who's actually being observed. So every time someone notices all the little things and all the small details about me just by seeing me and not because I’ve told them, I feel… touched. I am flattered. It overwhelms me, but in a good way.

It feels nice. Does it always feel this nice?

I love to observe people; to look at the moves and gestures made. Sometimes I can even feel content just by setting my eyes on them. It’s complicated. I love to look at my mom’s moving chest when she is asleep as it is always a relief to know that she’s still breathing. I love to see at the way my nephew blinks. I love to witness bae’s straight face forming into a small smile and finally turns into a big one. I enjoy seeing one of my classmates’ ponytail jiggling along with her each step. Sometimes I even like staring at people and merely admire the unexplainable beauty. Thus it had never occurred to me that someone could actually notice me, as I noticed the others.

But someone already has.

There was this one time when I was eating a vanilla flavoured bun and one of my classmates came to me and asked, “Don’t you like chocolate? I’ve always seen you eating this one”. I was at loss of word for a few seconds. And then, I simply laughed. I laughed because I had never thought that someone would actually notice that. But she did.

Yet for some unknown reasons, it made me feel delighted.