The Missed If

What if the moment you missed was hiding in a book you never read?

Back in 1992, on Valentine’s Day, there was this quirky contest in our college—send the most anonymous “Icy cards” to friends and classmates. It was sponsored by a minty candy brand trying to be cool. My friend—well, someone I wished was more than a friend—and I teamed up, wrote prank messages, and spent an entire afternoon laughing in the library. It was one of those days you don’t realize is important until years later.

I liked her. A lot. But never told her. Didn’t think she felt the same.

After that day, she grew distant. We drifted. And life moved on.

Decades later, I opened an old book she once gave me—a story she loved, that I never got around to reading. And tucked inside, stuck between the pages, was an Icy card. Addressed to me.

In it, she thanked me for being there. For listening. For making her feel seen. And then she said, “I like you. A lot. If you do too, write me back—yes, no, maybe—by the 16th.”

I never saw it.

Never wrote back.

I missed the if.

And maybe that’s what growing up is… collecting the maybes and what-ifs we didn’t know we were holding on to.