I went home that day with a silence inside me louder than the school bell that morning.
I didn't cry — not right away. I just lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, phone in hand, replaying everything. That hallway. His eyes meeting mine. And then… looking away like I was invisible.
But a few hours later, my phone buzzed again.
It was him.
"Hi."
One word this time.
I stared at it for a long second, then replied:
"Ab kya hai? Ignore kar diya, na?"
The typing bubble appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.
"I'm sorry. Please."
I didn't want to forgive him. Not yet. So we fought. I asked him why. Why would you talk to me like I meant something, only to treat me like a stranger in front of everyone?
And that's when he said something I didn't expect.
"I got scared. I thought you'd reject me."
Then came the truth.
He told me he didn't look like his pictures. That his photos made him look slim, confident, even cute — but in real life, he wasn't any of those things. He said he was insecure, underconfident, and convinced that once I saw the real him, I'd change my mind.
But I never even got the chance to.
Still, something in his voice notes that night felt real. The shame. The fear. The regret.
The next day at school, I didn't expect to see him. I avoided the senior block, didn't want another moment of humiliation.
But just as I was walking to my class, I saw him — walking toward me, alone this time.
And in his hand was a small chocolate bar.
He stopped in front of me.
Looked nervous.
And said softly:
"I'm sorry. I messed up. This is all I could bring… but I mean it."
I didn't say anything.
I just looked at him.
He wasn't what I had imagined. Not the guy in the pictures. But in that moment, for the first time — he felt real.
Flawed, scared, maybe even honest.
And somehow, that mattered more than a perfect selfie ever could
And I think that's when I realized:
This wasn't a crush.
This wasn't just a high school thing.
It was starting to feel like real love.
But real love… isn't always easy.
I don't know what happened after that, but something between us shifted.
We started caring more.
Loving deeper.
Even the smallest things began to feel special — his good morning texts, the way he checked on me during exams, the silly voice notes that made me laugh after a bad day.
It felt like we were slowly building something… real.
But.
Even real love can come with cracks.
And sometimes, the ones who care the most… are also the ones who unintentionally hurt us the deepest