Echoes of a Silent Beat

Chapter 21: How Are You Doing?

Graduation had come and gone, and in the blink of an eye, months had slipped by.

And now it felt like a strange déjà vu, as if I had returned to those early days when my only connection to Lexie was through social media. But this time, it wasn't the innocent curiosity of a friendship that was still blooming—it was something deeper, a longing that had settled into my daily life.

Lexie had been thriving with her new crew. They were everywhere—performances here, rehearsals there, their energy and excitement radiating from every post. Watching her joy, passion, and growth from afar filled me with bittersweet pride. It was both comforting and painful to see her succeed while feeling so distanced.

We still managed to chat occasionally, and those moments were a lifeline. Lexie's messages, filled with enthusiasm and casual endearment, felt like warm hugs from across the distance. But one day, as I grappled with the weight of post-graduation life, the carefree days of college gave way to the uncertainties of adulthood. I was struggling to find my footing.

In my frustration and loneliness, I reached out to Lexie, hoping she could offer support. Yet, as hours turned into days, days into weeks, my message remained unread. No "seen" notification. No response. I convinced myself she was probably just busy with her whirlwind of commitments. Surely, she would reply eventually.

I waited, holding onto the hope that she would get back to me soon. Each time I checked my phone, I hoped to see that familiar blue tick, a sign that she had seen my message and would soon reach out with comforting words. But as the silence stretched on, a gnawing worry took its place, blending with the loneliness I was already feeling.

Following my friends' advice, I decided to give her the space she seemed to need. They assured me that I had done my part, and it was now time to step back and see if she would reciprocate. With a heavy heart, I tried my best to silently support her from afar while I pursued my own path. I had hoped that, eventually, she might reach out, but she never did. Perhaps Lexie was simply a chapter in my life that had ended, and our paths had diverged.

It was a hard truth to accept, but maybe, just maybe, things were meant to happen this way. It hurt to realize that maybe I had overvalued our friendship. Perhaps, for Lexie, I was just a fleeting presence—a seasonal friend whose role in her life had ended. I've come to terms with it, realizing that if this is the boundary she has built, then I had to respect it.

Over time, I noticed Lexie had stopped being active on social media, and so do I. The absence of updates about her life provided a kind of relief, helping me to move on and focus on my own. It allowed me to process the acceptance more fully, gradually letting go of the lingering thoughts and emotions that once held me captive.

Two years had passed, and now, having completed my master's degree in Guidance and Counseling, I was back at our alma mater as an employee. The campus was familiar and comforting, but also strangely different now that I was on the other side of the desk.

One busy afternoon, while organizing files in the guidance office, I heard a voice that made my heart leap. I turned around, and there she was—Lexie, standing in the hallway just outside the office. The sight was so surreal it felt like a scene from a dream.

She was just as I remembered her—her school uniform layered with a cozy sweater, glasses perched on her nose in that familiar way. In her hand, she still held her signature banana cue, as if it were an essential accessory she couldn't be without. Her hair had grown longer, cascading down her shoulders in gentle waves, but the charisma she exuded was just the same, untouched by time. It was as if two years had collapsed back into the familiar days when we were students together. Seeing her like this, unchanged and vibrant, stirred a deep sense of nostalgia and a rush of emotions I had tried to keep at bay.