This story is based on real events that happened to me when I was 16 years old. Before sharing my story, I think it's better to briefly introduce myself…
My name is Gerlee. I was born as the middle child in a family of six. I had a talent for dancing, so starting from first grade, I practiced hip-hop dance. I used to represent my class in solo dance performances during school art festivals. I was also a good student academically. I was friendly with others and quite modest.
From grades 1 to 4, I studied in Class "B." Then, at my mother's request, I transferred to Class "A," which was an advanced English class. From that moment, I started becoming a bit shy. The reason was that when I transferred, my former classmates expressed their displeasure and called me a "traitor" during recess. I cried a lot because of that. I hadn't betrayed anyone—I had only transferred because of my mother's wish—but their words hurt me deeply.
When I joined the new class, I noticed that many students seemed to come from wealthy families. That same year, after I transferred, Class "C" was dissolved, and its students were divided between Classes "A" and "B." This decision was made by the school administration because the population of the soum center had decreased. As a result, many unfamiliar students joined Class "A," and for me, it became a completely new environment.
However, I made friends. One of my friends was Chimgee, and the other was Shuree. The three of us became friends probably because we sat at the same desk.
After joining the new class, I realized that I was falling behind in English and mathematics. I tried hard to catch up with my classmates and was often scolded by my teachers. By the 5th grade, I had caught up and started improving in English. In the 6th grade, I improved evenly in all subjects and scored 100% (Grade A) in both mathematics and Mongolian language in the national exams. My parents rewarded me for that achievement.
As for my family, I have one older sister and two younger brothers. Since my mother had four children, she couldn't work and stayed at home. My father, on the other hand, was a miner. He worked on a 24/48 shift schedule.
One time, my mother told my father that she wanted to work. As a result, our family decided to start a small business. We bought a small kiosk (a convenience stall) and began selling goods. My sister and I used to take turns working at the kiosk after school.
In short, that's the kind of student I was.
Chapter two – Love at First Sight
My love story began when I was in the seventh grade.
It was a cool autumn day. I was sitting alone in our small kiosk when something unusual caught my attention. A passenger car, one that always passed behind our kiosk, suddenly drove right in front of it. Curious, I stepped closer to the window and looked out.
And that was when I saw him.
A boy sat inside the car, quietly gazing out of the window.
For a brief moment, our worlds seemed to cross.
"Wow… he's so handsome…" I whispered to myself as the car slowly disappeared from sight.
My heart began to race. My cheeks flushed warm, and an uncontrollable smile spread across my face. Thoughts flooded my mind all at once.
Which class is he in?
Is he from our town?
Or is he someone new?
I didn't know anything about him, yet I wanted to know everything.
That strange, fluttering feeling inside me… that was the very first time I understood what love at first sight meant.
The next day at school, I found myself glancing at the classroom door again and again, secretly hoping he might walk in as a new student. But he never came.
So I made up my mind—I would find him.
The following day, during the long break, I waited impatiently for the clock to strike 10:15. Time seemed to slow down, as if it was teasing me. But finally, the bell rang.
My heart full of anticipation, I hurried toward Class 7B.
When I reached the door, I suddenly froze. I couldn't bring myself to open it. My heart was pounding so loudly, it felt like it might give me away. Just as I hesitated, two boys walked out—but neither of them was him. I peeked inside. He wasn't there.
Disappointed, I turned to leave.
And then—
As I rounded the corner, I saw him walking straight toward me.
My heart leapt wildly. I couldn't even lift my eyes to meet his. Instead, I lowered my head, pretending not to see him at all. He passed by me quietly.
But as soon as he did, I turned and watched him walk away… and in that moment, I felt an overwhelming happiness.
I had found him.
All the way back to my classroom, my thoughts wouldn't stop.
What's his name?
How can I talk to him?
Should I make him notice me?
But then I thought of myself—my freckled face, flushed cheeks, two simple braids, even the ink stains on my desk—and I sighed softly.
"Maybe it's better he didn't notice me…"
That evening, I carefully washed my school uniform and tidied myself up. I stopped braiding my hair and tried, in my own small ways, to look a little prettier.
From that day on, every morning felt different.
I would walk past his classroom just to catch a glimpse of him. Sometimes, I would wait just to see him leave school. Even the smallest moment—just passing by him—filled me with quiet joy.
"Maybe he saw me today…" I would whisper to myself, smiling.
But my secret didn't stay hidden for long.
My friend Shuree began to notice.
"Gerlee, why do you keep going over there? Who are you trying to see?" she asked one day.
I panicked and quickly made up an excuse.
"Oh… I'm just visiting a friend from my old class."
But fate had other plans.
One day, on our way to the cafeteria, I suddenly bumped into someone.
It was him.
He was much taller than me, and I ran straight into him. My face burned with embarrassment. I froze, unable to even look up.
He gently asked,
"Hey… are you okay? Be careful, little girl."
His voice was soft. Warm.
As he walked past me, I stood there, eyes closed, heart racing uncontrollably. And without even realizing it, I whispered under my breath,
"…Okay, my love."
Shuree heard me.
"What? Who? Him?" she laughed.
"Do you like him? Since when?"
Flustered, I grabbed her hand.
"No, no—be quiet! Let's go!"
But in the end, she found out everything. And being the good friend she was, she even helped me learn his name.
His name was Gantulga.
And from that moment on, with every little thing I learned about him, my heart grew just a little bit happier.
Chapter three – A Brave Step
My friend Shuree had already told Chimgee about my secret love.
The two of them stood in front of me, smiling mischievously.
"You're so quiet and always busy at your kiosk—when did you even find time to fall in love?" they teased.
I laughed nervously and began telling them everything from the beginning. After listening, Shuree said,
"You fall in love way too fast!"
And Chimgee added,
"Exactly! And you keep going back just to look at him again and again!"
I laughed along with them.
"Well… it really does feel like something out of a movie," I said.
Then Chimgee asked,
"So… what are you going to do now?"
Her question struck me deeply.
What was I going to do?
All I had been doing was watching him from afar. Nothing more. And suddenly, it felt like my courage was fading.
"It's okay… I'm happy just seeing him," I replied softly.
But even as I said those words, a quiet sadness crept across my face.
That evening, as I sat alone in the kiosk, I found myself lost in thought.
"Why do I feel sad?" I whispered to myself.
"I've fallen in love… haven't I? But he doesn't even know me. He doesn't even know I exist. I wish I could at least introduce myself…"
I paced back and forth, my thoughts tangled.
"Should I just go up to him and say, 'Hi, my name is Gerlee'? But what if people laugh at me? What if he thinks I'm ugly? No… that would be too embarrassing…"
Round and round my thoughts went—until suddenly, an idea came to me.
"I'll write him a letter."
But then came more questions.
What should I write?
How would I give it to him?
Where does he live?
The more I thought, the more lost I became—until I realized one thing:
First, I needed to find his home.
The next day, I waited until school ended and quietly followed him from a distance. He was walking with a boy from my class named Boldoo, heading toward Apartment No. 6—the same building where I lived.
I followed them from afar, careful not to be seen. What if Boldoo noticed me?
They entered Entrance 3. I stayed outside, waiting. Since Boldoo lived there, I thought maybe he had just gone to his house. I waited… and waited…
Almost an hour passed.
My stomach growled with hunger. I wondered if I should just go home—after all, my family lived on the 5th floor of Entrance 5 in the same building.
Just as I was about to leave, a window on the first floor opened.
A woman—probably his mother—peeked out briefly. And behind her…
There he was.
My heart leapt.
"Oh my… I'm so lucky," I thought.
"I found his home."
Filled with quiet joy, I returned.
That night, as I sat in my room doing homework, my thoughts drifted back to him again.
How could I deliver the letter?
Should I ask someone else to give it to him?
Or should I do it myself?
I couldn't focus on my studies anymore. My mind was full of him, and a soft smile lingered on my face.
Then suddenly, another idea came to me.
I would go ask to borrow a book…
And when I returned it, I would hide my letter inside.
It felt perfect.
The next day, it was my turn to work at the kiosk, so I gathered my courage and walked toward his home.
My heart pounded loudly, but I kept walking, trying to appear confident. The evening had already grown dark, which somehow made it easier—I felt less shy.
Step by step, I entered his building and stood in front of his door.
Should I ring the bell?
What should I do?
As I hesitated, someone suddenly entered the hallway behind me. Startled, I instinctively pressed the doorbell.
My heart felt like it would burst out of my chest.
"It's okay, Gerlee… you can do this," I whispered to myself, trying to calm down.
The door opened.
And there he was.
Panic washed over me, but somehow, I managed to speak.
"Um… hi… my name is Gerlee," I said awkwardly.
He looked at me calmly.
"Oh… okay. What is it?" he asked.
"I… I wanted to ask you something," I stammered.
"What is it?"
"I study in the class next to yours… and I was wondering… do you have a geography textbook I could borrow? I'll return it tomorrow."
"Oh, sure. Wait a moment," he said, and went back inside.
It was only a brief moment, yet it filled me with overwhelming happiness.
After a while, he returned with a book in his hands.
"Here. When will you bring it back?" he asked.
"Tomorrow. Thank you," I replied.
"It's okay," he said softly, closing the door.
I stood there for a second, holding the book tightly against my chest, my heart overflowing with joy.
Then, with light steps and a glowing smile, I walked back toward the kiosk—happier than I had ever been.