I'm writing this chapter for two reasons.
One, because I'm genuinely proud of myself for something.
And two, because I just want to write it. Lol.
So, I have a little group of five friends in college. All of them are great, fun, loud, and just the kind of people who make even boring days bearable.
And as you'd expect, it's that age when people start catching feelings. You know, the only good kind of adventure in an otherwise stressful college life. So naturally, everyone in my group likes someone. And the happy part is that, by God's grace, all of them get to spend time with the person they like. And honestly, I might be the happiest person alive for that.
My best friend, the one I spend almost every hour with, also likes someone. The start was a little shaky, but thankfully, the girl likes him back, and they both look good too. So all good. No heartbreaks so far. Lol.
But what I actually want to talk about is something else.
A few days back, after college got over, everyone went their own way, all headed off to spend time with their "special ones." I didn't even realize at first that I was the only one left. And to be fair, I wasn't feeling left out. I was the one who had told them to go in the first place. Lol.
Still, by the end, there I was, all alone, wandering around the campus.
And just to answer the question circling your head right now, yes, I do like someone too. I'm just... not brave enough yet. Lol.
Anyway, skip that. I'll save my cowardice for another chapter.
Since I was alone, I went to the tennis court and started hitting balls. The whole college was passing by, probably wondering who this idiot was, playing tennis all by himself like it's Wimbledon. But you know what? When I play, I don't care what people think, which is rare for me because usually, I do.
I played for a long while, then joined some seniors for a match, and by the end, my mind felt lighter. For me, sports is that one escape where the noise in my head goes silent.
After the game, I had to return my best friend's room keys. I called him to ask where he was, though I already knew — the open café. When I reached there, I saw him with you know who. I smiled, one of those quiet, genuine smiles, walked up, gave him the keys, and left.
By the end of the day, my mood was surprisingly good. I was just... happy for him.
A few days later, there was a college event. No classes, just fun. The entire campus was buzzing. I was with my friends at first, but slowly everyone disappeared again, off to their own special corners with their special people. Lol. And rightly so. If you get a chance to spend time with the one you like, why wouldn't you?
For the first time, though, I felt genuinely left out, walking aimlessly around the ground with no one to talk to. My heart whispered, "Bro, everyone's gone with their person. Why don't you text her?"
And I did.
But then my mind, that overthinking department in my head, overturned the decision. I deleted the message. The battle between my heart and mind could honestly fill another chapter.
Later that evening, I realized something that actually made me proud of myself.
Yes, I deleted that message out of cowardice, that's true. But unintentionally, I ended up doing the right thing. Because I didn't want to text her out of love or genuine feeling; I wanted to text her because I was lonely. And that's not fair to anyone.
Imagine if she had replied or agreed to meet. She would have come thinking I wanted to be with her. But the truth was, I just didn't want to be alone. And that's not love, that's loneliness disguised as affection.
I live my life by morals, and now I see that sending that message would have been morally wrong.
Even though I didn't delete it out of maturity, I'm glad I did.
I think God must've smiled a little that day, like, "Good job, kid. You did the right thing, even if by accident. That's why you are my favourite."
Love, for me, is a selfless feeling. It only survives when your intention is to give, not demand.
If you're trying to pursue someone just because you're lonely, or because everyone else has someone, then don't. Pursue them because you genuinely like them, because something about their existence makes yours feel fuller.
Loving someone should be about giving peace, not stealing it.
If you expect someone else to fix your broken pieces, you'll only hand them the burden of your emptiness.
Fix yourself first. Heal what's inside you before inviting someone in.
That's what I'm trying to do, to fix my mental barriers, to make peace with my solitude.
Yes, I do like her very much. But she isn't responsible for fixing me. I am. And I will.
Maybe one day, if my mind finally lets my heart take control, I'll do the brave thing. But until then, I'm just learning to be happy in my own company.
Sometimes, not doing anything is also a choice, the quiet kind of courage that doesn't look heroic but saves you from losing yourself in a moment of weakness and vulnerability. It takes strength to sit still when your heart wants to reach out, to hold yourself back when the silence gets too loud.
Maybe this is what growing up really means, learning that not every ache needs company, that some aches simply exist to teach you how to sit with yourself. Because love isn't about finding someone who fills your silence; it's about learning to be at peace within it.
One day, when I finally do send that message, it won't be out of loneliness. It'll be out of peace, and that's when I'll know I'm ready to give.