Far Yet Forever

Chapter 02

“Sometimes the people who are thousands of miles away from you can make you feel better than the ones right beside you.”

I woke up the next morning with the same heaviness I had felt the night before. The quiet was still there, hanging in the air, but I had gotten used to it by now. As always, my hand reached instinctively for my phone. Another habit. Another attempt to fill the void.

I had forgotten all about the guy who messaged me. His reply from last night hadn’t left much of an impression. I wasn’t interested in talking to strangers. Still, there was a small part of me that couldn’t help but wonder if he had said anything else.

I unlocked my phone, half-expecting no notifications again, but there it was—a message. From him.

Hey, didn’t mean to be weird yesterday. Just thought your story looked cool.

I blinked at the screen, unsure how to respond. There was no need for him to apologize—it wasn’t like he had crossed any boundaries. Yet, something about his message felt… genuine. Maybe I had misjudged him. Or maybe I was just overthinking. Either way, I didn’t want to leave him hanging.

No worries. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, I typed back, keeping it short.

I put the phone aside, not expecting anything else, but within moments, it buzzed again.

I get that. I have those days too. Hope today’s better for you.

A small smile tugged at my lips. It was such a simple message, but it felt different. I wasn’t used to someone acknowledging how I felt, especially someone I didn’t even know. For a moment, I found myself staring at the screen, debating whether I wanted to continue this conversation. I wasn’t in the mood for deep chats with strangers, but something about his tone felt comforting.

I hesitated, then typed:
Thanks. We’ll see. You seem pretty chill for a stranger.

His reply was almost immediate:
I try. But we can change that whole stranger thing, you know. What’s your favorite song right now?

I chuckled softly. He was smooth, I’d give him that. But still, I wasn’t entirely sure where this was going—or if I wanted it to go anywhere at all. But for now, it felt harmless, like a light distraction from the weight I’d been carrying.

I’ve been listening to a lot of old songs lately, I replied. Kind of a comfort thing. What about you?

Again, he replied quickly, as if he had been waiting for my response:
Same. Something about those songs just hits differently. Music really does have a way of speaking for you when you don’t have the words, huh?

I paused, letting his message sink in. He wasn’t wrong. Music had always been my safe place, my way of escaping when everything else felt too heavy. Maybe that was something we had in common—this need to let the silence speak through melodies.

I didn’t say anything else for a while, just stared at the message, wondering how a stranger could suddenly feel less like a stranger. It was strange, and yet... I didn’t mind it.

Eventually, I replied,
Yeah, it really does.

Then, I put the phone down, gazing out at the sky once again.

Maybe talking to someone new wasn’t so bad after all.

I kept my phone aside, feeling the need to clear my head. I stood up and started my morning routine—stretching, brushing my teeth, and trying to shake off the lingering heaviness from the night before. It felt good to move, even if it was just going through the motions.

Afterward, I grabbed my phone again, but this time, I wasn’t thinking about him. Instead, I sent a quick text to my long-distance best friend.

Good morning!

She always replied fast, and today was no different. Almost instantly, my screen lit up with her cheerful message:
Morning! How’s everything? Miss you!

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure whether to bring up the guy I had talked to last night. It wasn’t like me to chat with random people online, and I wasn’t even sure if it meant anything yet. But there was this nagging feeling, this curiosity that I couldn’t shake. I didn’t want to keep secrets from her, so after a deep breath, I typed:
There’s this guy… He replied to my story yesterday. We talked for a bit. He seems nice but... he’s just some stranger online.

Her reply came just as fast:
You sure? Be careful with that kind of stuff. You don’t know who he really is.

I stared at the message, biting my lip. I knew she was right. It wasn’t the first time someone had warned me about online strangers. And yet, there was a part of me that didn’t feel threatened. Maybe I was just being naïve, or maybe I was longing for a distraction.

Yeah, I’ll be careful, I typed back. It’s probably nothing anyway.

But deep down, I wasn’t sure. Something about our brief exchange felt… different.

I took a screenshot of his profile and sent it to her, waiting for her judgment. A few seconds later, her reply came through:

He doesn’t look like a nice guy. You should probably stop texting him.

I sighed. I knew she was just being protective, looking out for me like she always did. And maybe she was right. But something in me—maybe that quiet, stubborn part of me that was tired of always playing it safe—didn’t want to listen. So I typed back:
Yeah, sure. I’ll stop.

But we both knew I wouldn’t. She knew me too well.

Especially after everything that had happened—after him. I was already heartbroken, carrying the bitterness of a love that had left me shattered. Maybe that’s why I didn’t care as much as I should. It wasn’t like I had anything left to lose. What was one more stranger, one more conversation that might end in nothing?

I put the phone aside again, the weight of her words sitting heavily on my chest. I knew she meant well, but something in me just couldn’t let it go.

I sat by the window, curling up with a book, trying to distract myself from the swirl of thoughts in my mind. As I turned the page, a paragraph caught my attention:

"Sometimes, when you least expect it, the universe sends someone into your life. Not to fix you or mend your broken heart, but to remind you that love—real, deep, and lasting love—still exists. Even when you’ve given up on it, the universe hasn’t. It whispers to you through the people it brings into your path, urging you to believe again."

I paused, letting the words sink in. It was like the book was speaking directly to me, telling me to believe in something I had almost forgotten—love. The kind of love that didn’t leave you bitter, broken, and alone. I didn’t know if I was ready to believe again. But maybe, just maybe, the universe was trying to nudge me in that direction.

I glanced out the window at the sky, wondering if, somewhere out there, things were shifting—if someone was meant to come along and remind me that not all love is meant to hurt.