Dua Lipa and the Secret Love

Lingering Effects of a Phone Call

21th December 2023

A few days passed before my phone buzzed unexpectedly—an incoming message from Dua.

*"After my call with M.S., something hit me. But it wasn't sadness... it was more like acceptance."*Her words hung in the air for a moment, as if they carried a weight I wasn't prepared to handle. Dua, accepting something about M.S.? It felt strange. I could almost hear the silence between her sentences, the unspoken parts she hadn't yet shared, those tender feelings she kept hidden just beneath the surface.I paused, not sure how to respond. What could I possibly say to someone who'd been through so much, who had loved with such ferocity only to be forced into this agonizing wait? The right words felt slippery, just out of reach.Finally, I typed, *"Dua, that's a good path... to forget... to move on."*I waited, half expecting another flood of emotions, a long-winded explanation about how nothing is ever that simple. But instead, all she sent back was a thumbs-up emoji. Just that. I stared at it, feeling like there was so much more behind that small, almost dismissive symbol. It was a silence that screamed louder than any words she could have said. Acceptance. What had she accepted? Had she let go of M.S. for good? The questions started swirling in my mind, pulling me deeper into a storm of confusion. As I put my phone down, my thoughts began to race uncontrollably. What had really happened in that call? How had M.S. responded when he finally heard Dua's heart laid bare after all these months, all this pain? Had he told her he felt the same? Or had he gently pushed her away, trying to protect both of them from the inevitable heartache they were bound to face? The thought of Dua, with all her vulnerability, her heart on her sleeve, pouring out her love to him, hit me hard. What must it have been like for her to lay herself bare like that, to risk rejection, or worse—the realization that it was too late, that they had drifted too far apart? Had he held her heart in his hands with care, or had he let it slip through his fingers?And then there was the question of M.S. How had he taken it? After all this time, after watching her from afar, loving her in silence—had he been able to express his own feelings, or had the weight of everything simply been too much? I could imagine the strain in his voice, the conflict between love and logic, the fear that maybe they were too damaged to ever find their way back to each other.But what kept gnawing at me was the shift in Dua. That word—acceptance—wasn't one I expected to hear from her, not with the depth of her love for M.S. It wasn't like her to simply let things go. Had she resigned herself to the idea that they wouldn't reunite? Or was this a different kind of acceptance—the kind that says, *"I will wait, no matter how long it takes."* Her thumbs-up emoji seemed so small, so inadequate in the face of everything she must have been feeling. But maybe that was it—maybe she was tired of talking, tired of analyzing, tired of the constant push and pull between hope and despair. Maybe she had finally come to a place where she realized that love, in all its complexity, sometimes just needed to be accepted for what it was, even if it didn't unfold the way she had dreamed.But even then, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the end for them. Something about it felt unfinished, like there was more to come, more that needed to be said, more that needed to be felt. Maybe it wasn't just acceptance after all. Maybe it was simply the calm before the next wave of emotion, the next revelation. And as much as I wanted to give her peace, I knew deep down that this was far from over.One thing lingered in my mind long after our conversation ended. What had M.S. said to her during that call? What could have pierced her heart in such a way that it didn't break her, but made her feel something else entirely? Acceptance.

23th December 2023

Dua's message hit my phone with a dull vibration, but its impact felt far more profound than the soft buzz. *"I'm in India with my family. We'll talk when I get back."*It seemed so brief, so casual—yet, underneath those words, there was a sense of something bigger. Something that wasn't being said. And as I read it over and over, those few words began to echo in my mind, louder with each repetition. *Why was she pulling away now?*This was Dua, after all. The same Dua who had been spilling her heart with every breath, unable to contain her feelings for M.S., her tears flowing freely as she fought against her emotions. Now, all of a sudden, she was... distant. Why?There was something about that distance—about her being in India, miles away—that made it seem like more than just geography separating her from the storm of emotions she'd been battling. I couldn't help but feel like she was seeking some kind of refuge. Had the weight of her feelings finally become too much? Was the constant ache of missing M.S. slowly eroding her resolve, forcing her to step back, to escape, if only for a little while?But still, that didn't stop the questions from racing through my mind. She'd been so raw, so exposed in her love for him—was she really beginning to pull away from all of that now? Or was this just another way to cope, to find some momentary peace in a place so far removed from the memories they shared?I thought about her in India, surrounded by the vibrancy of the culture, the crowds, the family gatherings—things that should've been a distraction. But knowing Dua, it wouldn't be that simple. I could picture her in the midst of it all, her mind wandering back to him, to M.S., to the love she could never quite shake. The love that clung to her, no matter how far she travelled.And yet, something felt different in this message. There was a finality to it. Not cold, but... distant. Almost as if she were preparing herself for something. Preparing *me* for something. As if, after their last conversation, she had come to some realisation. Something had shifted.Was she slowly trying to let go? Or was she just taking a breath before plunging back into the depths of it all?I couldn't help but remember the way she'd spoken about him before, her voice trembling, filled with that raw, unrelenting love. And now... it felt like she was pressing pause. Not just on the conversation, but on the very emotions that had driven her for so long.Why? Why now? What had changed?I sat with my thoughts, replaying every conversation, every tear-streaked admission, every lingering silence after his name was mentioned. And now, this silence—this *distance*—felt heavier than ever. India... would it be enough for her to forget, even if just for a while? Or would she return with even more weight pressing on her heart? A part of me wanted to believe that maybe this trip would give her some clarity, some peace. But deep down, I feared that when she came back, the silence would be louder. That the love she was trying to escape would still be waiting for her—just as powerful, just as painful. And the question that burned inside me was: *What had she really left behind?*

9th January  2023

Dua's call came in like a breath of fresh air, yet it carried a weight that made my heart race. It had been ages since I heard her voice—so familiar, yet somehow transformed. As she spoke, I could sense an underlying shift within her, a change that felt both fragile and profound."I'm stopping smoking," she said, each word laced with determination, yet softened by a hint of vulnerability. "It's time for me to take better care of myself." Her voice had a steadiness I hadn't noticed before, and I wondered what had sparked this newfound resolve. Was it the passage of time? The distance? Or perhaps something deeper—an awakening to the reality of her situation? Then she dropped a bombshell that sent my mind racing. "I know what you want me to do..." I leaned in closer, my heart pounding. *Finally,* I thought, *maybe I'll finally get to hear about that conversation with M.S.* But before I could even formulate a response, Dua continued, her tone shifting, betraying a wave of emotion that surged beneath her carefully crafted words."I'm not ready to send you that call yet," she admitted, her voice trembling as if the very thought was too much to bear. "I've tried, but I just can't manage it right now.""That's alright, Dua," I replied, hoping to reassure her, to let her know that I understood. "Take your time." But the moment felt heavy, pregnant with unspoken words and lingering questions. Her voice cracked, the emotional barrier she had so carefully maintained seemed to falter, and it was as if I could hear the tears just beneath the surface. "I've got to go," she said abruptly, and I could sense her retreating, as if the weight of her own words had become too much for her to carry in that moment."Wait, Dua—" I started, desperate to say something, to keep her on the line, to pull her back from the brink of whatever was haunting her. But before I could finish, the line went dead, leaving me in a silence that felt heavier than the conversation we'd just had. I stared at my phone, a swirl of emotions crashing over me. She was different. And yet, she was still the same. The hope that had begun to spark with her resolve now flickered, caught in the wind of her uncertainty. What had she meant by that call? What had transpired between them that left her feeling so conflicted? The questions hung in the air, unanswered, and I couldn't shake the feeling that the distance she was trying to create might only deepen the chasm of her feelings for M.S. It was as if she was fighting a battle within herself—a battle between wanting to move forward and being anchored to the love that had once defined her.And as the silence enveloped me, I couldn't help but wonder if this new chapter was truly about letting go, or if it was just another layer of the complex story of Dua and M.S. Would she find the strength to confront her feelings, or would she continue to dance around the truth, allowing her emotions to linger like a haunting melody that wouldn't quite fade away?