Winter's Farewell

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There are people who enter your life like an unexpected blow, a whirlwind that shakes everything in its path. Others come like a gentle breeze, barely noticeable, until you realize they've been there from the beginning, as if you had never known a day without them. Claire thought Leevi was one of those—a constant presence, the kind that silently accompanies you without making a fuss. She never imagined that someone so close could one day start to fade away without making a sound.

Claire always knew Leevi wasn't like the others. From the moment she met him, she understood that their friendship wouldn't be like the ones she usually had. She, who never stopped talking, who could go on for hours about any topic, found something different in Leevi. He didn't need to fill the air with words, didn't expect her to, and that freedom was what she loved most about being with him.

At first, everything seemed simple. It was Claire and Leevi against the world, or at least, that's how she felt. Their days together weren't filled with grand adventures or extraordinary events, but that's what made them special. They spent afternoons improvising in the kitchen, nights watching movies in silence, cigarettes Leevi smoked while Claire rambled about her favorite books. It didn't matter that they were different; in that shared space, they always seemed to understand each other without needing to say much.

But what Claire didn't see, what slipped through her fingers like sand, was that not all connections last forever. Sometimes people begin to drift apart in ways they don't even understand. There's no big conflict, no clear reason. Just the slow distancing, like a bond gradually loosening over time, until all that's left is a thin thread threatening to break.

It's not easy to watch someone who means so much to you disappear. It's not like a sudden breakup, where things snap all at once. No, this was worse. It was a slow death, a pain that crept in little by little, more each day. Claire tried not to think about it, tried to keep things as they always were, as if holding on tight enough could stop him from slipping away entirely. But deep down, she already knew the truth. Something was breaking, and there was no way to stop it.

Leevi, for his part, wasn't very aware of the impact of his distancing. For him, things had simply changed. He couldn't explain why, but he no longer felt the same need to be present. There was something inside him, a part that demanded space, that needed to pull away, though he wasn't quite sure from what. Maybe from her, maybe from everything.