One day, driven by a mix of confusion and lingering hope, I texted him, my fingers trembling as I typed out the question that had been haunting me: “Are you really in a relationship? You’re not single, are you?”
His response came quickly, a single word that felt both dismissive and curious: “Why?”
I hesitated for a moment, struggling to articulate the storm of emotions inside me. Finally, I replied, “I just need to know.”
A few moments later, he responded again, his message a mix of clarity and ambiguity: “I was not single if you match me with one of your friends.”
His words stung more than I expected. He wasn’t in a relationship after all, but the fact that he seemed interested in being set up with someone else rather than considering me was a sharp blow to my heart. It felt like a cruel twist of fate, as if my feelings were nothing more than an afterthought in the grand scheme of things.
Unable to contain my hurt, I sent a final message: “Why someone else and not me?”
The question was raw and vulnerable, a desperate plea for understanding. I wanted to know why, after all this time
YOU ARE READING
Pages of a One-Sided Heart
Short StoryI love him so much and he would never know that.
