The moment I heard the news, a coldness washed over me, seeping into my bones. Aiden was gone. Just like that. Without a word. Without so much as a goodbye. It wasn't the shock that hit me first, though. It was the silence. The quiet finality of it all. The realization that I had imagined a connection that never existed, and now, he was gone without even acknowledging the role I had played in his life, if I even had one.
The teachers had informed us during class. "Aiden has transferred. Due to his family's work posting, he will be studying abroad." It had been a simple statement, a piece of information shared with the same indifferent tone one would use to announce the lunch menu. There was no empathy, no acknowledgment that someone might care. And that was the part that stung the most—the lack of consideration. No, it wasn't that I expected him to stay for me, but at least some sign that he had thought about me in his departure.
Instead, I was left with nothing. No explanation, no closure, just an echo of his absence.
I sat on the edge of my bed that morning, staring blankly at my phone, trying to make sense of it all. Aiden was gone. He was a fleeting presence, someone I had grown to care about without ever fully understanding why. Now, he had disappeared from my life just as easily as he had entered it. I had known from the start that he wasn't interested in a relationship. He had made that clear, indirectly, with every conversation that held no deeper meaning. But somehow, I had let myself hope. I had let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, there was something more beneath the surface.
But there wasn't. There never had been.
I didn't know how long I had sat there, trying to process the weight of the information. It felt surreal. I had told myself, countless times, that I wasn't expecting anything from him. That I would be fine if he didn't reciprocate my feelings. I wasn't naive enough to believe that every connection had to lead to something more. But the truth was, I had wanted something from him. And I had wanted it badly.
And now, he was gone.
I couldn't help but replay every moment we had shared. The little exchanges, the quiet moments, the way our eyes would meet across the room. Was that all just a figment of my imagination? Was I the only one who had felt the pull between us, even in the briefest of moments? Had he even thought about me at all?
I hated myself for asking these questions, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop wondering what had gone wrong. Why hadn't he said anything? Why hadn't he given me a chance to say goodbye?
The tears came slowly at first, quietly, like a small stream that gradually grew into a river. I tried to stifle them, tried to push the emotions down, but it was no use. They spilled over in waves. Anger, frustration, confusion—all of it mixed together in a whirlwind that threatened to drown me.
Was I really that insignificant to him? Was I so low in his eyes that he couldn't even be bothered to say goodbye? I had never asked for more than what we had—just friendship, just a small connection. But even that seemed like too much for him.
How could he just leave without a word? How could he pretend that our time together had meant nothing?
My phone buzzed again, and this time, it was Arif. I had been avoiding his messages since that morning. He must have heard the news, too. I could only imagine what he was thinking—how he might pity me for having gotten so caught up in something that had never been real.
"Emilia, I heard about Aiden. Are you okay?" The words stared at me, and I felt a pang of guilt. Arif was a friend, someone who had always been there for me, but I wasn't sure I could talk to him about this. I wasn't sure I could articulate how deeply this hurt. How much I had hoped that there could have been something between Aiden and me.
I stared at the message for a long time, the words swimming in front of my eyes. I wanted to respond, to tell him everything, but I couldn't find the words. Instead, I just typed back, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... processing everything."
It wasn't the truth. I wasn't fine. I wasn't processing anything. But it was the only thing I could say that didn't make me feel even more vulnerable.
The hours that followed were a blur. I forced myself to go through the motions—classes, lunch, pretending like everything was normal, when inside, I was falling apart. Every step I took seemed heavier than the last. I couldn't focus on anything. My mind kept drifting back to Aiden, to the way he had made me feel, to the way I had imagined us being something more.
I tried to distract myself by throwing myself into my books, hoping that the rhythm of my studies would pull me away from the pain. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't concentrate. My thoughts kept wandering back to him. How could I stop thinking about someone who had never really been a part of my life? How could I let go of something that had never truly existed?
By the time the day ended, I was exhausted. Mentally and emotionally drained. I had gone through the motions, pretending like I wasn't falling apart inside. But when I got home and shut the door behind me, the weight of everything hit me with full force. The silence in the apartment felt suffocating. It wasn't just Aiden's absence—it was my own. I had allowed myself to believe in something that had never been real, and now, I had to face the consequences.
I sat down on my bed, my mind swirling with all the thoughts I couldn't seem to escape. What had I expected from him? What had I wanted?
I couldn't blame Aiden. I couldn't blame him for something that had never been his fault. He had made it clear from the start that he wasn't interested in anything more. I had misinterpreted his actions, had read too much into every glance, every word. And now, I had to deal with the consequences of my own expectations.
But the pain was still there. And the worst part was, I couldn't let go of it. I couldn't stop wishing that things had been different. I couldn't stop hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would have told me the truth before leaving. That he would have at least given me the closure I needed to move on.
But I couldn't change any of it. I couldn't make him stay, and I couldn't force him to feel something he didn't. All I could do was sit with the hurt, let it wash over me, and try to find a way to move on.
As the night stretched on, I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. I couldn't blame Aiden. But I couldn't stop the ache in my chest, either.
It was my own fault. I had let myself fall for someone who was never really mine. And now, I had to live with the consequences.
And it hurt. It hurt more than I ever thought it would.
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