starryeyes1
Favoured Frenzy
They used to talk about everything.
Their favourite songs, childhood memories, stupid little dreams, and the kind of future that felt so far away until they started imagining it together.
Now, they sat across from each other, sharing a silence neither knew how to break.
He wanted to ask if she still missed him.
She wanted to ask if he ever missed them.
He wanted to tell her that he still looked for her in crowded places, that every song reminded him of conversations they would never finish.
She wanted to tell him that she still typed his name whenever something wonderful happened, only to remember that she no longer had the right to share it with him.
But neither spoke.
Because somewhere between I miss you and I'm fine, they had learned to hide the truth so well that even honesty felt like betrayal.
When he finally stood to leave, she smiled.
"Take care," she whispered.
He nodded. "You too."
Two ordinary words. Two people carrying a thousand unsaid things.
He walked away without looking back, afraid that one glance would undo everything he'd spent months trying to forget.
She stayed until he disappeared, wondering how someone could leave her life and still occupy so much of it.
And perhaps, somewhere inside him, he wondered the same.
Neither would ever know.
Because not every silence means there's nothing left to say.
Sometimes, it means there's too much left to feel, and neither heart knows where to put it anymore.
And sometimes, the saddest conversations are the ones two people have in their heads long after they've stopped talking to each other.
Their favourite songs, childhood memories, stupid little dreams, and the kind of future that felt so far away until they started imagining it together.
Now, they sat across from each other, sharing a silence neither knew how to break.
He wanted to ask if she still missed him.
She wanted to ask if he ever missed them.
He wanted to tell her that he still looked for her in crowded places, that every song reminded him of conversations they would never finish.
She wanted to tell him that she still typed his name whenever something wonderful happened, only to remember that she no longer had the right to share it with him.
But neither spoke.
Because somewhere between I miss you and I'm fine, they had learned to hide the truth so well that even honesty felt like betrayal.
When he finally stood to leave, she smiled.
"Take care," she whispered.
He nodded. "You too."
Two ordinary words. Two people carrying a thousand unsaid things.
He walked away without looking back, afraid that one glance would undo everything he'd spent months trying to forget.
She stayed until he disappeared, wondering how someone could leave her life and still occupy so much of it.
And perhaps, somewhere inside him, he wondered the same.
Neither would ever know.
Because not every silence means there's nothing left to say.
Sometimes, it means there's too much left to feel, and neither heart knows where to put it anymore.
And sometimes, the saddest conversations are the ones two people have in their heads long after they've stopped talking to each other.
