Something Stupid
The paranoia started to creep in slowly, like a shadow growing long as dusk sets in. I’d think about the words I never said, the confessions I swallowed, and they’d settle in my mind like stones. I knew I was being irrational, that Rosie was still there, just as she had always been, but my mind kept twisting, stretching every silence, every passing glance into something untrustworthy.
One night, Rosie stayed over. We lay on the floor of my room, staring up at the ceiling, and for a moment, the quiet between us felt full, safe. Then she turned to me, and for the first time, I saw something in her gaze that looked like hesitation.
"Narisa," she whispered, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. "Do you ever feel like... like this isn’t enough?"
My heart dropped, heavy and hollow. I tried to push down the fear bubbling up, tried to focus on the warmth of her hand against mine, grounding me. But it was there, gnawing away at me, that nagging feeling that we were two mismatched pieces of a puzzle, close but never truly fitting.
That night, I barely slept. My mind was a storm, filled with flashes of the past, memories twisted by fear and doubt. I wanted to reach out, to hold on tighter, to pull her close enough that she couldn’t ever leave. But I knew that was a lie. Because love wasn’t enough—not the way I loved her, not the way I was constantly afraid of losing her.
I was afraid of the silence, of the vulnerability that came with it. Because with silence came truth, and with truth came the terrifying realization that maybe, just maybe, love wasn’t enough to hold us together.
YOU ARE READING
everything platonic ✓
ChickLiti tried my best to describe her resemblance with art. she did not believe me. she believed those days when crowds whispered around the halls; she believed her mind which told her that she was not capable of love; she believed in the dreadful night a...
