Whispers of an invisible girl

Chapter 5: Falling Slowly

The end of summer came with a bittersweet feeling. Celeste felt the familiar, gentle excitement that came with the start of a new school year but also a lingering heaviness that hadn't left her. One bright spot in the haze of her life had been Liam—a boy she'd met through mutual friends just a few weeks before. At first, she hadn't thought much of him. He was quiet, polite, with an easy smile and a slight awkwardness she found endearing. But as they continued talking, she started to feel like he saw her, really saw her, in ways that even her closest friends didn't.

One night, while Celeste was scrolling through her texts, Liam's name popped up with a message.

Liam: "Hey, I know it's late, but do you want to go for a walk?"

Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn't unusual for him to text her randomly, but something about the timing felt different. She had been feeling lonely, like she was slipping out of people's lives without them noticing. But Liam, with his sporadic messages and random requests, always seemed to know when she needed someone.

Celeste: "Sure. I'll meet you by the park."

She tossed on a sweatshirt, not caring much about how she looked, and slipped out into the cool evening. The streets were quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights as she made her way to the park. She spotted Liam leaning against the railing of the small bridge, hands in his pockets, his silhouette almost blending with the night.

"Hey," she greeted him, a slight smile on her face.

"Hey, Celeste," he replied, returning her smile with one of his own. They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, just taking in the quiet sounds of the night. Eventually, they started walking along the path.
"So, how's the last week of summer treating you?" Liam asked, his tone light.

Celeste shrugged. "It's... fine, I guess. Honestly, I don't know. Summer's been kind of strange."

"Strange how?" he prodded, glancing at her with a hint of concern.

She hesitated. "I just feel... distant from everyone. It's like I'm on the outside looking in. Even with my friends, I feel like there's this... wall. And sometimes, I think maybe it's my fault."

Liam nodded thoughtfully. "I get that. Sometimes I feel like I'm just... floating around. Like, if I disappeared, maybe no one would even notice."

His words hung in the air, and Celeste felt a pang of sadness at the thought of him feeling the same loneliness she carried. She wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between them. But she hesitated, unsure of how to make him understand that she understood, that she wanted to be there for him.

As the days went on, their late-night walks became routine. Celeste found herself drawn to him more and more, trusting him with the quiet, unspoken parts of herself. She thought she saw a similar connection in his eyes, in the way he'd linger on her words or look at her for just a second too long. But the closer she felt to him, the more he seemed to pull away.

A few weeks later, she noticed Liam's texts becoming less frequent. Their conversations grew shorter, less meaningful, as if he was holding back something important. One evening, she couldn't take it anymore and decided to confront him. She texted him to meet at the same park, determined to find out why he was pulling away.

When she arrived, she found him sitting on a bench, his expression distant. She took a deep breath and walked over to sit next to him.

"Hey," she began softly.

He looked up, giving her a small, tired smile. "Hey, Celeste."

She bit her lip, glancing at him with uncertainty. "Liam... what's going on?"

He looked away, his hands fidgeting with a loose thread on his jacket. "What do you mean?"

"You've been distant," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I don't know. I thought we were close."

Liam let out a long sigh, rubbing his face with his hands. "It's not you, Celeste. It's... I don't know how to explain it. Things have just been... hard."

"Hard?" she echoed, feeling a pang of disappointment. "You never mentioned anything."

"It's not something I really talk about," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the ground. "Sometimes it feels easier to just... disappear for a while."

She felt a wave of frustration mixed with sadness. "Do you know how it feels to be on the other side of that? To feel like someone you care about is slipping away, and you don't even know why?"

Liam sighed again, his shoulders slumping. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just... I didn't want to drag you into my problems."

"Maybe I want to be there," she whispered. "Maybe I want to help. But I can't do that if you keep pushing me away."

He looked at her, his expression softening. "I'm sorry, Celeste. I didn't mean to hurt you."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their words hanging heavily between them. She wanted to believe him, to trust that things would get better, but a part of her knew that he was already slipping away.

In the weeks that followed, Celeste clung to the hope that things would go back to the way they were. But Liam's distance only grew. He stopped answering her texts, his replies reduced to short, detached messages that felt like they came from a stranger rather than someone she thought she knew.

One evening, after days of silence from him, she found herself staring at her phone, her heart aching. She wanted to scream, to tell him how much he was hurting her, but deep down, she knew it wouldn't change anything. He had already made his choice.

In a moment of desperation, she dialed his number, hoping he would pick up. To her surprise, he did.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice hesitant.

"Liam, why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice trembling. "I don't understand. I thought... I thought we were friends."

There was a long pause before he replied. "Celeste, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to turn out this way."

"Then why are you pulling away? Why won't you let me be there for you?"

He sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just not good at letting people in."

"Maybe you just don't care as much as I thought you did," she said, her voice breaking. She could feel tears welling up, but she forced them back, determined not to let him hear her cry.

"It's not that, Celeste," he said quietly. "I do care. I just... I'm not good at this."

"Then maybe you should try," she replied, her voice thick with emotion. "Because right now, you're hurting me more than you know."

Another long silence followed, and she could almost feel the distance between them growing.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice barely audible.

With that, he hung up, leaving her sitting alone in the dark, her heart shattered. She clutched her phone tightly, her mind reeling with the realization that she had lost him, that the one person who made her feel less alone had let her down.

In the days that followed, Celeste withdrew into herself, the pain of Liam's absence cutting deeper than she could have ever imagined. She went through her days in a daze, pretending to be fine, but inside, she felt like she was falling apart.

Her friends noticed her change, but she brushed off their concerns, telling them she was just tired. She couldn't bring herself to explain the pain of losing someone she had barely begun to know, someone who had made her feel like maybe she wasn't so alone after all.

Late at night, she would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying their conversations in her mind, wondering where things had gone wrong. She tried to convince herself that she was better off without him, that he was just another person who didn't understand her. But a part of her couldn't shake the feeling that she had lost something precious, something she might never find again.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly, the pain began to dull. She realized that Liam's presence in her life had been fleeting, a brief moment of light in the darkness. But in his absence, she found a strength she didn't know she had—the strength to let go of someone who couldn't be there for her, even if it hurt.

As she looked back on their time together, she began to see it for what it was: a lesson in letting go, a reminder that sometimes, the people who come into our lives are only meant to stay for a short while. And even though it still hurt, she knew that she would be okay. One day, she would find someone who wouldn't let her down slowly—someone who would stay.