Aarav’s love for Riya was like walking through fire. It hurt, it burned, but he kept doing it just to feel a little warmth from her. Every moment with her was a wound he chose to keep open because the pain was better than feeling nothing.
He knew she didn’t love him. It was clear in the way her eyes never stayed on him for long, the way her smile was always brighter when she talked about someone else. But he held on to whatever kindness she gave him, even if it was never meant for him. Even if her words felt more like pity than affection.
Every message, every call, he was always there. Not because she cared, but because he made himself easy to reach. It was like he’d trained himself to be her comfort, her safe place, even when it tore him apart. Her attention, no matter how little, was better than nothing. It was the lie he kept feeding himself — that maybe, one day, she’d love him back.
They’d talk for hours. She’d pour her heart out about her bad days, her dreams, her broken pieces. And he’d listen. Always. Offering words of comfort that only ever felt like empty echoes to her. Because what she wanted was never him.
But Aarav had a way of romanticizing the pain. Telling himself that his devotion was worth it, that caring for her would be enough. That her happiness would somehow heal the wounds her indifference left behind.
One night, when his chest felt too heavy and his own thoughts were tearing him apart, he finally asked, “Why do you always come to me when you’re hurting?”
Her answer was simple, but it broke him. “Because you’re always there. You’re the only one who listens.”
And just like that, he realized he was nothing more than a convenience. A safety net she never planned to fall in love with. He was her shelter, not her choice. Her habit, not her heart.
Days turned into weeks, and he kept hurting himself by holding on. Because even pain felt better than letting her go. Because her care, even if it was fake, made him feel something. Anything. He kept giving pieces of himself away, hoping she’d finally see him. But she never did.
He once read that you can’t make homes out of human beings, but Riya was all he ever wanted to come home to. And that was his biggest mistake.
One night, as he stared at his phone waiting for her message, he couldn’t keep lying to himself. His fingers shook as he typed the words he had never dared to say.
“I get depressed walking this path, but I keep choosing it. Because it’s the only way I get to feel cared for, even if it’s all a lie. I loved you so loudly, but all you ever heard was silence.”
He hit send and turned off his phone. The emptiness felt endless, but at least it was real. The kind of pain that doesn’t pretend to be love.
Aarav realized then that he had spent so long trying to make her love him that he’d forgotten how to love himself. And for the first time, he let himself fall apart. Completely.
But maybe, just maybe, breaking was the first step toward healing.