I never knew the exact moment it started. There was no lightning strike, no slow-motion movie scene. Just… a moment that felt like any other - except it wasn't. Maybe it was her laugh echoing across the classroom. Maybe it was the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous. Maybe it was the way she said my name like it never hurt to say it.
All I know is - one day, I looked at her and realized:
I'd never be able to look away again.
Sia.
My childhood friend. My constant. My soft spot in a world full of sharp edges.
The girl who lived on the other side of my every unspoken sentence.
The one I loved in silence, in smiles, in small moments she never even noticed.
And me?
I was the boy always there.
Aarin - the kind one. Too kind.
The one who helped her with her assignments. The one who waited even when she forgot.
The one who fell first, fell hardest, and never quite landed.
I told her once. In a way that didn't shake the world but shattered mine.
She smiled - God, that smile - and told me she didn't feel the same.
And I? I laughed. I made it a joke.
Because if I didn't, the lump in my throat would've swallowed me whole.
I kept trying. Not with grand gestures. Just… showing up. Being there. Always.
And every time she rejected me, I stitched another fake smile across my mouth.
I'd say, "It's okay, I get it."
But the truth is - I never got it.
I never understood how someone could be everything to you, and you be nothing to them.
Still, I hoped.
Because when you love someone like that - really love them - you hold onto hope like it's oxygen.
Even when it's choking you.
We drifted after school. Life moved on. People changed.
But not me. Not where she was concerned.
Then one day, years later, I saw her again.
It was just another hot, tired afternoon in a new city. I'd come for studies, not nostalgia. Not pain. But pain doesn't need an invitation - it shows up wearing her face.
There she was.
Sia.
Laughing with a group of girls outside the student building - just like she used to.
Hair longer. Smile softer. Still the center of every room she entered.
And just like that, everything inside me crumbled and rebuilt at once.
She turned. Our eyes met.
Her lips parted. "Aarin…?"
My heart, traitor that it is, whispered her name even before I could speak.
I managed a crooked smile. "Hey. Been a while."
She walked over slowly, like the moment hadn't just knocked the air out of me.
"You look… different," she said, her voice still that same gentle rhythm.
I shrugged. "Guess heartbreak gives you a new haircut."
She laughed - and I swear, it sounded the same as it did when we were twelve.
But I wasn't twelve anymore.
Now, I knew how much it hurt to love someone who doesn't love you back.
And worse - to love them enough to never let them know just how badly it's killing you.
I wanted to say so many things.
That I still remembered her favorite chocolate.
That I still paused when I heard someone say her name.
That even after all these years, my heart hadn't learned how to beat for anyone else.
But all I said was, "It's good to see you."
She smiled again. That devastating, kind smile.
"You too, Aarin."
And just like that, she walked away - back into her world, her friends, her laughter.
And I stood there, alone with a heart that never learned how to stop waiting.