Far Yet Forever

Chapter 01

“Distance is not for the fearful, it is for the bold. It's for those who are willing to spend a lot of time alone in exchange for a little time with the one they love.”
Richard Bach.

There’s a strange kind of emptiness that fills you when you’re alone in a crowd. It’s the kind of loneliness that lingers, no matter how many notifications light up the screen or how many faces pass by during the day. I felt it every time I scrolled through my Instagram feed—photo after photo of people smiling, laughing, living. And yet, there I was, lying on my bed, staring at the same posts for the hundredth time.

No texts. No missed calls. Just silence.

I sighed, putting my phone down beside me, its cold surface grazing my hand as if mocking me for waiting on something that would never come. Why was it always like this? Why was I always waiting for someone—anyone—to say something? The loneliness hung in the air like a thick cloud, wrapping itself around me until all I could do was stare at the ceiling, wondering when it would ever feel different.

I glanced at my phone again, half out of habit, half out of hope. There was nothing new, of course. Why would there be?

But then, out of nowhere, a little red notification popped up on the screen.

New friend request.

I raised an eyebrow. Curious, I opened the notification. The profile was unfamiliar—a guy I had never seen before—but we had a mutual friend. Weird, I thought, but I figured if my friend knew him, he couldn’t be all that bad, right? Without thinking too much about it, I hit “accept.”

I put the phone back down, my mind drifting back to the dull quiet of my room. The sky outside my window was turning shades of orange and pink, and I couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful it looked. I quickly grabbed my phone again, snapping a picture of the sky and uploading it to my story with a simple caption: Even the sky feels far away.

Within minutes, a notification popped up.

He replied to your story.

I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t expected anyone to reply, let alone him—the new friend request guy.

His message was simple:
Hey, what’s up?

I stared at the screen for a moment, unsure whether to respond. There was something about the timing of his message that felt like a coincidence too perfect to ignore. I didn’t know him, but in that moment, it felt nice to have someone reach out. Maybe it was exactly what I needed—a distraction, a conversation, or even just a reminder that I wasn’t as alone as I felt.

Without overthinking it, I typed back:
Not much, just admiring the sky. You?

And just like that, something shifted.

I hesitated for a moment, then typed,
Do I know you?

His reply was quick, almost too quick.
Nope. Just a stranger for now. Might be a friend soon, though.

I frowned at the screen, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and caution. The boldness of his message caught me off guard. Most people would have left it at “just a stranger,” but the idea that he could already assume he’d be more than that? It felt… weird. I wasn’t sure how to take it.

I typed back a short,
Okay.
And then, without giving it a second thought, I put my phone down again. I wasn’t in the mood for this. Not now. Not today.

The sky outside had deepened to a rich blue, and the moon was peeking through the clouds. There was something comforting in it, like the sky was holding all the pieces of the day that I didn’t know how to. I let out a soft breath, sinking into the quiet of the moment.

With my phone forgotten beside me, I hummed softly to myself, a familiar song spilling from my lips. It was one of those songs that you sing when you’re trying to fill the silence—just a tune you’ve known for years, one that feels like a lullaby to your soul. The words drifted with the evening breeze, and for the first time in hours, I felt a little lighter.

Maybe I didn’t need anyone to text me. Maybe, in that moment, all I needed was the sky, the moon, and a song.