I felt empty, as if everything inside me had been drained. After leaving Alvin, there was a profound void that nothing could fill. The world seemed colorless, and I moved through it like a ghost, lifeless and without purpose. Nothing mattered anymore. I had no energy, no drive, and the spark I once had seemed to have disappeared.
But there was one thing I couldn't escape: food. While most people lose their appetite when they're depressed, I ate. A lot. Every time the emptiness inside me threatened to swallow me whole, I would reach for something to fill the void. Chocolate, chips, whatever I could find. It didn't matter. I ate to numb the pain, and though I felt like I was slowly losing control of my emotions, I didn't seem to gain much weight. My body had a way of handling it, but my heart didn't.
One day, after a particularly exhausting day of classes, I was walking back home, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders, when I bumped into someone. I hadn't even noticed him at first, too lost in my thoughts. But then I heard his voice.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
I looked up to find a guy, his dark eyes concerned but warm. I wasn't used to people asking about me. My natural instinct was to brush him off, to smile and say I was fine, but something about the way he looked at me made me pause.
"I'm fine," I muttered, managing a weak smile.
He didn't seem convinced. "You sure? You look kind of down."
I sighed, not really wanting to talk about it, but his persistence broke through. "I'm just hungry," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop myself.
He raised an eyebrow, then smiled. "Hungry, huh? Well, I know just the thing."
We walked to a nearby boutique, and he bought us both pain au chocolat. As we sat down and ate, the conversation shifted to the lessons we'd had that day, talking about everything and nothing. He asked if we could study together sometime, and though my instinct was to brush him off and pretend this was the last time we'd meet, I found myself agreeing.
He asked for my contact information. I hesitated. I had deleted my WhatsApp to avoid Alvin's constant calls and texts, and I didn't want to relive that again. But I gave him my other contact. The one I hadn't used for anyone else.
I didn't plan on responding, of course. That wasn't me. I liked my solitude, my space. I preferred keeping my interactions on my terms. But then he texted. And I ignored it. And he texted again. And I ignored it again.
Weeks passed, and we crossed paths in school. Michael, as he introduced himself, insisted on us working together, and eventually, I agreed. The work was strictly professional. No flirting, no unnecessary small talk. Just studies.
The exams came and went, and after the break, Michael still tried to reach out, but I didn't respond. I wasn't ready for any sort of attachment. I wasn't ready to feel anything for someone again. But Michael persisted. He was patient, and in time, I began to open up to him more—though only about school. We kept things strictly professional.
By the end of the semester, I could tell. I could see the way he looked at me, the way his compliments grew more frequent, more personal. It was clear: Michael liked me. And as much as I hated to admit it, I liked him too.
But I wasn't ready to admit that yet. I wasn't over Alvin, and the last thing I wanted was to make the same mistake again. I couldn't let myself fall for someone else. Not now.
One evening, after a long revision session, Michael pulled me closer. His eyes were filled with something deeper, something I couldn't ignore. He leaned in slowly, and I could feel his breath on my lips. It felt like the world had stopped spinning, and it was just the two of us. He leaned in but I quickly pushed him away. He smiled and took my hand as we walked back home.
The tension between us grew after that but neither of us dared to speak the unspoken words. I wanted him and I knew he wanted me too but I knew once it went further, there won't be a going back so I preferred to keep things the way they were.
Everything was fine until it finally escalated. After another late night study session, Michael pulled me closer. His gaze intense, searching mine as if he was reading my soul. As if trying to ask for my permission to do something he knew I wouldn't need but might want.
"Do you want to kiss me?" I asked without thinking, my voice shaky but curious.
He didn't respond with words. He simply closed the distance between us and kissed me. His lips were soft but insistent, and I responded before I even realized it. It was intense, but gentle, as if he was waiting for me to catch up. His hands moved to my back, pulling me closer, and for a brief moment, I let myself forget everything else. I was lost in the kiss, in the warmth of his touch.
But soon his hands slipped beneath my dress trying to go further. I wanted it, my body wanted it.
But I wasn't that kind of girl, I couldn't let my hormones control me. With the last bit of self control left in me,I pulled away, my heart racing. "Slow down," I whispered, my hands pressing against his chest, gently pushing him away.
"Trust me" he whispered and devoured my my lips again. My brain screamed "NO" but my body said "YES".
He carried me swiftly, place me on the desk, parted my legs and positioned himself between them without letting my lips go.
I felt his hands beneath my dress again and this time, I let him. I felt his fingers brush through my thighs as he gently pulled down my underwear.
Then I felt his equipment on my doorway as he tried to go in. I felt he was struggling so I whispered "it's my first time, it won't go in"
"Trust me" he whispered again and tried again more aggressively.
"Ouch" I screamed and pushed him away.
"Slowly, Kim" he whispered. But I was back to my senses and I wasn't letting him try again.
"Michael please" I pleaded, holding his face between my palms.
He looked at me, his expression soft but questioning. He didn't press further, and I was thankful for that. "I'm not ready," I said quietly, my voice barely audible.He smiled and widened the distance between us.
After properly dressing up, I realized I might have lost my virginity. I don't think it went in but I felt slight pain. Could it be?
"Michael, did it go in?" I asked, stammering. "No scared cat" he replied and I took a breath of relief.
The following days were a blurry. Michael tried to reach out to me to express his feelings. To tell me he loved me and wanted us to have an official relationship. But I wasn't having it. I couldn't, I wasn't ready to let him make me break him. I knew I wouldn't last. I already felt like ending our relationship before it even began.
So I yelled at him "You tried to force me into having intercourse with you and now you are here talking about love? You think I don't know all you ever wanted was sex? Don't you ever talk to me again."
I could see the shock and pain in his eyes as I walked out from our study hall but I had to do this for me and for him.
He tried calling me but I never picked up. He texted and I reiterated my words telling him to leave me alone if he actually loves me as he says.
Slowly he gave up. Slowly we became familiar strangers.
And I ran. Again!