It was during our school days, around 2019 – 2020, when Free-fire was at its peak. I was at my cousin’s function, and we were all playing together. That’s when I heard his voice for the first time. I got his number just to tease my cousin. I didn’t know that silly decision would turn into a story that would stay with me for years.
And.
He was younger than me.
So I called him “brother” at first – a safe word, a simple beginning.
But feelings don’t understand safety. They grow quietly, even in places they shouldn’t.
Within a week, something felt different.
We were talking every morning. Every night.
It felt like we couldn’t breathe without updating each other about our day.
It wasn’t love yet.
But it was something that made my heart wait for his messages.
One evening, while I was at my cousin’s house for a family function, I finally gathered the courage.
“I think I have feelings for you.”
The call cut.
My heart dropped.
Then he called back.
“I feel the same.”
That one sentence made the world softer.
But love with him was never steady.
That same evening, he called again.
“This won’t work. It’s not right.”
And just like that, happiness left as quickly as it came.
That became our pattern —
Yes.
No.
Come closer.
Go away.
Months later, at my friend’s sister’s wedding, while I was laughing in the car on the way back home, his name appeared on my phone screen.
He wanted to talk.
I didn’t know why he kept coming back.
But every time he did, I opened the door again.
He said one thing that stayed with me:
“My parents won’t be with me forever. After years… you will be.”
Those words built a future inside my heart.
Years passed.
We fought. We loved. We laughed. We cried.
We met secretly. We held hands like the world didn’t exist.
Every emotion danced inside our story – happiness, anger, desire, hope.
Sometimes, I still remember one of our cutest memories.
I was staying at my cousin’s house. It was early morning – around 5 a.m. The world was still quiet, half asleep. And suddenly, he showed up. He had booked an auto all by himself and came just to see me.
We were just school kids. We didn’t even properly understand the world yet.
We went for a small walk while the streets were empty and the sky was slowly turning light. There was something magical about that morning – no noise, no people, just us and our young, reckless hearts.
We stood close. Too close.
We kissed.
Not out of boldness. Not out of rebellion.
But out of that innocent, overwhelming feeling of “I don’t want this moment to end.”
In that moment, I didn’t care about anything – not society, not rules, not consequences. Maybe that was our mistake too. We were too deep into each other to think about the world outside.
I think someone might have seen us that day.
But nothing happened then.
The real storm didn’t come.
Until one day…
On a quiet terrace, under an open sky, he came with a ring.
It felt like forever was finally choosing us.
But forever had other plans.
My parents walked onto the terrace.
Shock. Silence. Fear.
And that was the last day I saw him like that.
We were Asian kids.
We knew love wasn’t always enough.
Family is heavy. Expectations are heavier.
Years passed again.
We stayed away.
But sometimes distance doesn’t delete feelings – it just hides them.
One day, during a small argument, I told him to delete my photos.
He said he did and he admitted that he had lied during the time we were together – something about his life back then.He said he felt guilty for hiding it and wanted to be honest now. I didn’t react strongly. I just said, “Okay.” Maybe I was too tired to feel anything deeply anymore ,But while we were talking, I said maybe what we had was immature… maybe it was more lust than love. He got angry. The conversation turned harsh
In anger, I said something I didn’t mean:
“Just forget me.”
That was the last fight.
More months passed. More years.
One day, I texted him:
“I’m sorry. I regret it.”
He replied:
“I was waiting for you to say that.”
For a second, my heart believed in timing again.
Then I saw his bio.
Another girl’s name.
I didn’t ask questions.
I didn’t create drama.
I didn’t break.
I just said, “Okay.”
And this time… I let him go.
.
.
.
Now we live like strangers on the same internet. No follows. No blocks. Just two people who once meant everything to each other… and now wish each other well from a distance.
Sometimes love is not about ending up together.
Sometimes love is about growing because of someone.
He was my almost.
My almost forever.
My almost husband.
My almost home.
And that’s okay.
Because some people come into our lives not to stay —
but to teach us how deeply we can feel.
In another life, maybe we would have worked.
But in this life, we were just a beautiful chapter.
And I no longer read it with pain.
I read it with gratitude.
