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I have my best friend, who's caring for me in her vibrant way. Yet, amidst our laughter, I feel a depth of solitude.

Being an introvert paired with her extroverted nature, our dynamics often lean towards her tales dominating our discussions.I become the silent auditor, nodding along to her stories while my own thoughts echo in the background.

Loneliness creeps in like a subtle mist, and in those quiet moments, I reflect on the imperfect facets of my life. It's not that her stories don't matter, but the yearning for someone to listen to my quieter musings tugs at my heartstrings.

The bustling canteen becomes a metaphor for the silent corner where my unspoken words reside, waiting to be acknowledged. My thoughts are interrupted as I tune into Mihika's voice, instantly recognizing the joy in her tone. Observing her radiant expression, I feel a surge of happiness for her. However, the elation is short-lived as the mention of Tarun dampens her mood.

A pang of sympathy tugs at my emotions, realizing he wasn't the source of her newfound joy. Engaging in our usual banter, I playfully refer to her as "His tulip," reveling in the playful murmurs of our inside jokes.

Witnessing her blush, an overwhelming affection and camaraderie floods my being. Mihika can't help but perceive warmth spread through her as she hears me playfully tease her about Tarun. Her heart flutters at the mention of his name, and a genuine smile adorns her face.

I observe Mihika's blushing state and can't resist teasing her further. "Why don't you confess your love to him, Mihika?" I prodded, earning a playful hit on my shoulder.

Mihika's internal struggle is evident, torn between her feelings for Tarun and the lingering doubts from his playboy reputation. In Mihika's perspective, the conflict within her emotions surfaces. She admits her love but can't easily dismiss the shadow of Tarun's past.

"Eshh, it's not like I don't love him, I truly do," Mihika confesses, her voice carrying a mixture of affection and uncertainty. Yet, her emotions take a poignant turn as she reveals her struggle. "But I still think of him as a playboy," she confesses, a trace of sadness evident in her words. The conflict within her is palpable-a battle between love and lingering doubts.

The hope for change flickers in her words, expressing a desire for Tarun's loyalty. "He's becoming loyal to me, maybe...I really don't know," she admits, uncertainty casting a shadow over her optimism.

"Let's go, Eshh, the lecture is about to start," she says, masking her inner turmoil with a sense of purpose. As we prepare to head to our lecture, a mix of determination and vulnerability surfaces.

Being the introverted one, I find myself lost in my own thoughts as we walk towards our class.

The contrast between her extroverted nature and my introspection is stark. As we stroll towards our classes, a familiar face from Mihika's circle spots us, her eyes lighting up with recognition. Intrigued, she swiftly approaches Mihika, initiating a conversation that seems to carry the cadence of shared secrets and laughter.

In contrast, I remain the introvert, an observer on the periphery of their animated exchange. The hallway's ambient sounds muffled, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The brief encounter lingers, and a twinge of introspection creeps in.

The junior's coming towards me with flowers in his hands, t
hough not meant for me, momentarily lifts my spirits. The vibrant blooms seem to carry an unspoken promise, casting a fleeting illusion of attention. In the delicate dance between reality and my daydreams, a wave of excitement surges within me. Could these flowers be for me?

A rare moment of anticipation envelops me, conjuring visions of a thoughtful gesture directed my way. However, the bubble of hope bursts as reality speaks, "Hey, you're Mihika's friend, right? Can you please tell me where she is? I want to talk about something," he inquires.

Redirecting my focus, I respond with a composed nod, masking any flicker of disappointment. "She's over there," I pointed towards Mihika, who was engrossed in conversation with her friend.

With that, I step into the sanctuary of the classroom. The hallway's ambient sounds muffled, leaving me alone with my thoughts yet again. The junior's address, not to me but as "Mihika's friend," momentarily dampens my spirits.

The blossoms, once a symbol of potential admiration, now become a reminder of my overlooked existence. A mix of emotions swirls-a blend of longing, self-doubt, and a touch of embarrassment. The lingering disappointment weighs heavily, wrapping me in a cloak of melancholy.

Why did I entertain the fleeting fantasy that those flowers were meant for me? The sensation of inadequacy settles upon my shoulders like an unwelcome companion.

In that vulnerable moment, a cascade of self-doubt rushes in, drowning me in a sea of insecurities. Why couldn't I be the recipient of such gestures? The ache of not fitting into the societal mold intensifies as I question my own sense of worth.

Feelings of sadness and stupidity intertwine, creating a symphony of emotions. As I lower my head, an remarkability settles in, casting shadows on the colorful petals that had briefly illuminated my path.

-->> hey lovies <<--

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📖 Hey lovely readers! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of [Healing mirrors]! I poured my heart and soul into writing it, and I'd love to hear what you thought. Did you like it or not ?? Let me know in the comments below! Your feedback means the world to me and helps me improve my writing. Thank you for being a part of this journey with me! ❤️✨

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