TIME BOMB

After all that overthinking, all that "I won't do it this time," I still ended up walking over and talking to him.

The conversation was normal. Almost disappointingly normal.

Later, I realized something funny.

Even in my dreams, I don't get a dramatic ending.

I once dreamt that he was getting married, and somehow, even then, I didn't confess.

Apparently, not even my subconscious believed in happy endings.

I never even saw it.

That didn't stop my imagination from doing all the work.

Not long after, he appeared in another dream. We were standing in the same place, surrounded by people, while everyone else seemed to have no trouble talking except us.

I remember noticing his longer hair. I remember thinking he looked good.

The funny thing is, I never really understood what people meant when they called someone "hot."

Then I met him.

The worst part is that I went that way just to see him.

No matter how much I tried to get him out of my head, I kept finding him in the small things. I'd wonder how his exam went, which way he'd walk back, whether he was heading to the hostel or somewhere else.

He was alone that day. Walking fast, as usual.

So fast that I barely had time to recognize him before he was gone.

Sometimes I wonder who he was always rushing away from.

I had semester exams coming up. I was worried about my future, placements, ending up unemployed, and every other problem a college student could possibly invent at 2 a.m.

Yet somehow, the thing that scared me the most was seeing him.

A whole day in the same hall, and we barely acknowledged each other. We were close enough to say hi, but somehow that felt harder than the exam itself.

It's honestly impressive when I think about it.

Out of all the things that could ruin my peace, it was a quiet guy who wasn't even talking to me.

Nothing started, so nothing ended.

Then why did it feel like I had lost something?

I remember seeing him one day. We were close enough to say hi. Neither of us did.

The truth was that he wasn't speaking to me.

We never talked much, but somehow, I couldn't lose interest. I'd forget about him when I was with my friends, but the moment I was alone, I'd find myself checking my phone for a message that was never there.

I remember him telling me that I was the first girl he spoke to after joining college. I don't know if it was true. But I remember how happy it made me feel.

I wasn't angry.

Even our spotify blend had gone from 95 to 97, and i somehow treated that like life-changing information.