GOODBYE:

  "Take care, okay?"

  Mira stood in front of me, her eyes reflecting a sadness I wanted to believe was for me. But I didn’t let myself hope.

  I smiled, the same way I always did. A well-practiced smile that masked every unspoken word, every oppressed feeling.

  "You too."

  For a second, she hesitated. It almost seemed like she wanted to say something more. But instead, she just nodded and stepped back.

  And that was it.

  No teary farewell, no last minute confessions. Just a quiet goodbye, as if I was nothing more than a passing chapter in her life. I turned away before my heart could beg me to stay. I didn't look back. Because if I did, I might have stayed.

  THE FLIGHT:

  The airplane hummed softly as I settled into my seat. Outside, the sky stretched infinitely. The city I once called home faded beneath the clouds.

  "Sir, your cold coffee," the flight attendant said, placing the cup on my tray.

  I stared at it for a moment. The ice clinked softly against the glass. I traced my fingers over the condensation on the cup, a bitter smile forming on my lips.

  Cold coffee.

  "Oh... we used to drink this a lot," I murmured. "It was your favorite, right?"

  I wasn’t sure who I was talking to. The coffee? The ghost of the girl who would never know how much she meant to me? Or the boy I used to be, the one who used to believe he had a place in her world?

  I took a sip. It tasted the same. Somehow it felt empty which was nothing like before.

  THE BEGINNING :

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  There was a time when Mira and I were inseparable. Our childhood was filled with laughter, shared secrets and dreams which I thought would last forever.

  She was my best friend. And I...I was in love with her.

  But love is a quiet thing when it is one-sided. It festers in the silence, in the moments where you laugh even when it hurts, where you smile even when it breaks you.

  And then high school life came. She changed—but not in a way anyone else noticed. She was still the same girl, still the same bright and cheerful. But her world shifted. And I was no longer in it. She started talking about someone else.

  Rihan.

  At first, it was subtle. Just passing comments, stolen glances. But soon, he became a name she spoke of too often.

  She didn’t even notice the way my hands clenched whenever she mentioned his name. How my smile faded for just a second before I forced it back. Each word was like a dagger which I willingly let pierce me.

  "Rihan helped me with the math problem today !"

  "Do you think Rihan likes me?"

  "Rihan is so cool, isn't he?"

  I smiled. I nodded. I agreed.

  What else could I do?

  She was happy. And I—I could never take that happiness away from her.

  Even if it killed me inside.

  THE CONFESSION :

  Some moments scar you in ways that even time gives up to heal. I wasn’t supposed to be there. I wasn’t supposed to hear it. But fate was cruel as it always had been.

  I was passing by an empty classroom. Two figures standing too close. A voice, soft yet firm.

  “I like you.”

  Rihan’s words. A confession.

  The world didn’t stop. The ceiling didn’t collapse. But something inside me totally did.

  I should have left. I should have turned away. But my feet were traitors, rooting me to the ground. I held my breath.

  And then, her voice—gentle, hesitant.

  I didn’t need to hear the inevitable words that followed. I already knew. I walked away before my heart could shatter completely. But perhaps, it already had.

  THE DREAM :

  That night, I had a dream.

  Mira and I were walking together, just like we always had.

  Then suddenly, I stopped. My foot got stuck. As if The ground was trying to swallow me, holding me in place. I tried to move, to break free, but the more I struggled, the deeper I sank.

  I looked ahead. She was still walking. Unaware.

  A desperate panic clawed at my throat.

  "Mira!"

  I tried to call out, to tell her to stop, to wait, to look back. But no sound came out.

  I gasped, looking at my throat. That’s when I saw it.

  A hand.

  No— my hand.

  It was wrapped around my throat, suffocating me, forcing my silence. I woke up in a cold sweat.

  Perhaps it wasn’t just a dream. It was my cruel reality.

  EPILOGUE :

  The city outside my window was unfamiliar. I was miles away from everything—my home, my past and her.

  Distance was supposed to heal wounds. That’s what they say, right? That time and space dull the ache, that if you run far enough, the ghosts won’t follow.

  They lied.

  I buried myself in studies, convincing myself that this was a fresh start. But the truth was, I had been running away. Not from her—but from my own feelings.

  The table lamp was the only source of light in my room, casting long shadows across my desk. My hand trembled as I wrote.

  Then, my pen slipped from my fingers. As I leaned forward to pick it up, something warm and silent dripped onto the floor.

  I paused.

  A drop. Then another. My vision blurred.

  Tears.

  I hadn’t even realized I was crying. And then, I completely broke. I clenched my fists, pressing them against my eyes, but it was useless. My shoulders shook. I gasped for breath. For years, I had swallowed words I longed to say. For years, I had smiled through the pain, convinced myself I was strong enough to bear it. I had held it in for so long. Too long.

  And in the solitude of a foreign city, with no one to hear me, I finally admitted the truth—

  A whisper, a confession, a wound I could no longer hide.

  "I thought I could get over you."