I archive everyone’s chats because I like the calm of an empty screen

it’s like they’re still here,

but hidden,

like ghosts I allow to stay quietly.

His chat was always pinned.

Today, I archived it too.

Maybe he doesn’t mean the same anymore.

Maybe I don’t love him like I used to.

Maybe it was just infatuation,

a teenager’s messy storm ;

hormones, loneliness, attachment,

or just low self-respect disguised as love.

Maybe I haven’t met the world yet,

the ones who make me forget him

without trying.

But then, a voice whispers:

you still love him.

You’re just scared

scared he’ll leave again,

scared he’ll choose her again,

scared to know he already has.

You’re scared to face that he never cared,

that he never loved you,

that you were just a pause in his boredom.

He enjoyed you when it suited him,

laughed with you,

then left you hanging between “almost” and “never.”

And yet

you archived,

you didn’t delete.

Because somewhere,

a part of you still waits for him to text first

a part of me still hopes

the notification will light up,

and for a brief second,

waits for him to text first hopes, the notification will light up, and for a brief second,

Par ek din tujhe bhi waisa hi waqt rulayega,

Kisi aur ke liye tu tadpega,

Magar humein kya farq padega?

Tere khayalon mein ab koi aur hoga,

Hum nahi…

Toh behtar hai tu khush hi rahe,

Jab tu meri duniya hoke bhi mera na hua,

Toh tere jaane ke baad

Teri duniya ujhad bhi jaaye toh kya?

Tu roye, tadpe ya toote kisi aur ke liye,

Ab hamare dil pe koi asar na hoga.

Hum teri kahani ka hissa na kal the, na aaj hain,

Tu azaad hai,

Humein tujhse koi gila-shikwa nahi.

Tu chahe khush rahe ya gham mein doob jaaye,

Hum na dua karenge, na baddua denge,

Aur agar tu roye bhi,

“I want to remember her like this forever.”