Some love stories don't really have a beginning or an end — they simply exist.They linger in time, suspended between what was and what could be.
Sometimes, one heart beats with absolute clarity, knowing exactly what it feels.And the other... stays lost — confused, wandering in its own maze of emotions.
I always believed it was hard for a man to fall for a woman after she already had.And I was right.Because once a person has loved deeply — their first love, their first heartbreak — do they ever really move on? Maybe they pretend to, maybe they try. But a part of them always stays where it all began.
And yet, some things are meant to be — no matter how impossible they seem.
The Hangover of Hope
What hurt wasn't that he loved someone else —It was that he didn't trust me enough, even as a friend, to tell me the truth.
That night, he came home late and texted,
"Came late, will tell you tomorrow."
I stared at the message for hours.I even wrote back —
"Okay, please let me know. I might die overthinking."
But he didn't reply. Not that night. Not the next morning either.
When I asked again, he said,
"I'm praying right now. Let me calm down, then I'll call you."
He never did.
Even Priyanka said, "Charu, if he was really genuine, he wouldn't keep you hanging. He'd let you know what happened. He'd give you that clarity."
And that hit me hard.
5th October — The Night I Broke
I cried that night.Not the silent, pretty kind of tears — but the kind that physically hurt. The kind that choke you from the inside until your chest burns.
The next morning, on 6th October, my mind felt blank.Should I text him? Should I pretend I didn't see what I saw — that story, that caption, that song?How do you talk to someone who's in love with someone else, especially when your own heart beats for him?
The thought of seeing him with another girl made my chest ache.But when we talked on call, everything seemed... normal.Too normal.
We joked, we laughed, he replied to my stories like nothing happened.And then — he posted another story: a mountain view, soft music, a romantic song playing in the background, with the caption —
"This song explains my exact feelings for her."
My heart dropped. My head started spinning.Everything felt complicated — like I was living someone else's story, not mine.
7th October — Pretending Normal
The next day felt eerily ordinary.No confrontation, no avoidance. Just... normal.
Neither of us ghosted the other. We talked the same way we always did — casually, comfortably, like the horror of the last two days never happened.
That afternoon, I had my maths class. Before leaving, I texted him, "On the way to class."Almost instantly, he replied:
"Bring two cans of Coke. I'll pay — share the QR."
I should've refused. I should've acted like I had some self-respect left.But I didn't. I don't know what was wrong with me — maybe I just wanted to see him again.
So, shamelessly, I went to his shop.He was there — calm, composed, like nothing had ever shaken him.I sat with him, trying to mask the chaos inside me with a small smile.
In a teasing tone, I asked, "So... how was your face when you saw your girl?"
He looked at me for a moment, smiled that familiar Shresth smile, and said nothing.Typical Shresth behaviour. Silent, unreadable, frustratingly calm.
The Roadside Walk
After class, I met him again — this time, with Priyanka.We were walking along the roadside, laughing, teasing each other. On the surface, it looked normal. But inside, I was breaking.
Priyanka, half-joking, half-curious, asked,
"So, Shresth... is there a chance of that party you promised? You said if Samriddhi comes back, you'd throw one."
He smiled — that small, knowing smile — and said,
"There's a chance, Priyanka..."
Then he went quiet.And that silence said everything.
The Thoughts That Wouldn't Stop
Back in class, I couldn't focus.Numbers and equations blurred into each other, while my mind replayed everything — his mixed signals, his sudden changes, his gentle words that never matched his actions.
Three days of sweetness, then confusion, then coldness.His story, his silence, his lines —
"How could I even be angry at you, when I'm talking to you leaving all my work? You must be important."
Those words echoed in my head — words that made no sense anymore.
And amidst all this, the pressure of my higher secondary exams was crushing me.I felt lost — stuck between what was right and what my heart wanted.
Even then, somewhere deep inside, I knew —I would never have the place in his heart that I truly wished for.
At evening, even at night he texted we talked in a way that made me feel he spared time from his packed schedule to talk.
The way we discussed about buisness, and how it's family buisness for us, the way he informed before his father called or before he went for drive, THE WAY HE INFORMED, the way he chose this he was'nt forced to it.
The way I overthinked to a point and wrote him a note saying all which was in my mind: "Shresth you have been important to me, I totally understand you have someone in your life and you love her.... I am sorry... you have to hear all this from me... but even what I am supposed to do....I know I don't matter to you, and it won't affect you if I go away from your life, but your presence is important in my life".... and all those things which ran through my mind at that very moment. I even attached my diary entry with it and sent it to him. All this because my mental health drained.
TO ALL THIS HE SAID:
Charu I read the entire part.
And listen you are my good friend and you being in my life will always matter to me, you are wrong in that point
And listen do not take so much of stress just do one think call me and talk OPEN- heartedly whatever you feel like.
The Hangover of Hope
What hurt wasn't that he loved someone else —It was that he didn't trust me enough, even as a friend, to tell me the truth.
That night, he came home late and texted,
"Came late, will tell you tomorrow."
I stared at the message for hours.I even wrote back —
"Okay, please let me know. I might die overthinking."
But he didn't reply. Not that night. Not the next morning either.
When I asked again, he said,
"I'm praying right now. Let me calm down, then I'll call you."
He never did.
Even Priyanka said, "Charu, if he was really genuine, he wouldn't keep you hanging. He'd let you know what happened. He'd give you that clarity."
And that hit me hard.
10th October — The 21-Hour Silence
After that day, everything changed.
We were supposed to leave for vacations after 7th October, but suddenly his behaviour shifted.He became distant — replying to my messages after hours, sometimes not at all.
And then came 10th October.He didn't reply. Not for one hour, not for five, not for ten... but twenty-one.
Twenty-one hours of silence.Twenty-one hours of refreshing the chat, hoping to see "typing…"Twenty-one hours of overthinking every word I'd ever said.
Because the truth was — you can't be that busy for 21 hours.You just choose not to be available.
And when he finally texted, what he said next… changed everything.
To be continued...