Far Yet Forever

Chapter 03

“The excitement of a new connection can sometimes be the best kind of sleepless night.”

Later that evening, my phone buzzed again. I had almost forgotten about him, lost in the world of my book and the words that lingered like a whisper in my mind. But there it was—another message from the stranger who seemed to be slowly becoming less of a stranger.

Hey, what’s up? What do you do in your free time?

I stared at the message for a moment. It was such a simple question, but it made me pause. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell him much about myself yet, so I kept my reply vague.

Not much, just reading or listening to music. You?

I expected him to take his time responding, but within seconds, my phone buzzed again.

Cricket mostly. I play a lot. And the gym—it’s kind of my second home.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Cricket and the gym? He wasn’t just some guy wasting time online. He had hobbies, passions. I found myself picturing him—sweating it out on the field, surrounded by the sound of cheering teammates, or in the gym, focused and determined, lifting weights or running on a treadmill. It was weird, imagining a life that had nothing to do with mine.

That’s cool. How long have you been playing cricket?

His answer was quick again.
Since I was a kid. It’s more than a hobby now, almost like a way of life. The gym helps me stay fit for it. What about you? You into any sports?

I wasn’t. Sports were never really my thing, and the gym? Definitely not. I smiled to myself, wondering how we were already this different, yet still having a conversation that didn’t feel forced.

Not really. I’m more of a books and music kind of person. Sports aren’t really my thing.

I expected the conversation to slow down after that, but instead, he surprised me again.

That’s cool. I think it’s good to have something you love. Whatever keeps you going, right?

He was right about that. We all needed something to keep us moving forward, something to hold on to when everything else felt too heavy. For him, it was cricket and the gym. For me, maybe it was books and the sky.

I found myself smiling, and for the first time, I realized I didn’t feel the same heaviness I usually did. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all—talking to someone new, someone who had his own life and yet was curious about mine. Maybe, just maybe, this was the universe reminding me that there was still more to come, even when I had stopped believing.

As we continued texting, the conversation shifted.

What about your likes and dislikes? What are you into? he asked.

I stared at the screen for a moment. I wasn’t used to people asking me that. Most didn’t care enough to know. And even if they did, it wasn’t easy for me to open up about the little things that made me who I was.

I started typing, hesitated, then backspaced. I wasn’t sure how to explain myself. How do you tell someone you barely know that you like quiet moments more than anything, that crowded places make you uncomfortable, and that being alone feels like both a blessing and a curse?

Finally, I replied:
I guess I like quiet spaces. Reading, stargazing, stuff like that. I’m not really into big social gatherings. What about you?

A few seconds later, his message popped up.
Same, actually. I wouldn’t say I’m super outgoing either. I have a small circle, and I kind of prefer it that way. But I think I’m less of the lonely type, more like… I enjoy my space but don’t mind company sometimes.

I smiled at his honesty. It was strange how we seemed similar, yet different. He was an introvert too, but not like me. I was the lonely kind, the one who craved connection yet found it hard to maintain. There were days when I’d go for hours without speaking to anyone, not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t know how to reach out. It was as if the more time I spent alone, the harder it was to let anyone in.

I get that, I typed back. I’m probably more on the lonely side. I don’t mind being alone, but sometimes it gets... heavy, you know?

This time, his reply took a little longer.
Yeah, I get that. It’s easy to get lost in your own head when you’re alone too much. But, hey, at least you’ve got good books and the sky to keep you company.

I laughed softly to myself.
Yeah, I guess. They’re the only ones who don’t get tired of me.

Well, maybe now you’ve got someone else who won’t get tired of you, he replied, and I paused, feeling a strange warmth at his words.

For the first time in a while, I didn’t feel so invisible.

His message lingered on my screen, and I couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected kindness in his words. It was strange how a simple conversation with someone I barely knew could make me feel a little less isolated.

Thanks, I appreciate that, I typed back, trying to keep my response light. It’s nice to talk to someone who gets it.

He replied almost instantly.
Anytime. It’s nice to have someone to talk to who understands. Sometimes it’s easier to connect with people who get where you’re coming from.

I thought about that. Maybe he was right. Sometimes, it was easier to connect with someone who shared similar experiences, even if they were a stranger. It felt less like a performance and more like a genuine exchange.

What do you usually do when you’re feeling down? he asked suddenly, as if sensing a shift in the conversation.

I hesitated. This was a question that cut a little deeper than I was ready to answer. But he seemed sincere, and I found myself wanting to share, even if just a little.

I usually read or listen to music, I admitted. Sometimes I just sit by the window and watch the sky. It helps me feel a bit better.

He responded with a thoughtful message.
That sounds like a good way to cope. I think everyone needs something that helps them unwind. For me, it’s the gym or cricket. It’s like a way to channel all that heavy stuff into something productive.

Yeah, that makes sense. I guess everyone finds their own way to deal with things, I said. It’s good to have something that works for you.

There was a brief pause before he messaged again.
Do you want to talk more about it? I mean, if you’re comfortable. Sometimes it helps to talk things through.

I was taken aback by his offer. It wasn’t often someone reached out like this, especially a person I’d only just met online. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to dive deeper into my feelings, but his genuine concern was hard to ignore.

Maybe another time, I typed. I’m not quite ready to open up fully yet.

That’s okay, he replied. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. No pressure.

I felt a wave of relief mixed with uncertainty. It was nice to know that someone was willing to be there, even if I wasn’t ready to take that step just yet.

I glanced out the window again, the sky transitioning from dusk to night. It was calming, and for the first time, I felt a small spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this conversation was a step toward something new—something that could help me see beyond the loneliness that had become so familiar.

Thanks, I typed back. I guess I’ll take you up on that offer when I’m ready.

Looking forward to it, he replied.

I put my phone down, feeling a bit lighter than before. The evening sky outside seemed to hold a promise, and for the first time in a while, I felt a glimmer of hope that perhaps not everything had to stay the same.

I spent the night buried in biotech textbooks and finishing group homework at a nearby café, hardly blinking through the long hours. By morning, exhausted but oddly exhilarated, I returned to my dorm, eagerly waiting for his texts and preparing for the day ahead. The lack of sleep didn’t bother me as much as the anticipation of hearing from him, a small beacon of excitement that kept me going.