The Moment She Saw Him

Part 29

Sehar

Seeing Hamza fall on the ground and confess to me and seeing him crying was all to much for my heart to take in all together . But , whatever I did was for him and me too . I thought about it for a long time , it was hard walking off , leaving him crying . He was always there when I randomly broke out , and leaving him on the floor crying for me , was devastating . By the time I made it to the lift , I broke into little sobs too . Not because of my decision , but because I trusted him , I thought I knew him well , but in reality I knew nothing about him . We had been friends , close ones , for 5 months now and I was stupid cuz I thought I knew everything about him . I knew nothing about him at this point . It has been a week since I blocked him on social media and his number too . My mom had his number and I blocked it from her phone too . It broke my heart to do so , but for the first time in life , I felt like I was strong , I felt like I could control my emotions and also learnt not to trust people , even if they are nice to you . 

As the days dragged on, I found myself consumed by an emptiness I hadn't anticipated. I thought blocking him out of my life would bring me peace, but all I felt was an ache that settled deep, quietly gnawing at me. Every message left unread, every call I ignored, all brought me closer to a realization that hurt more than I could bear. I'd always thought I was resilient, unbreakable even, but his absence felt like a piece of myself had gone silent.
Each night was the same—I'd lie in bed, his laughter echoing in my mind, the way he'd wait for me after class, his terrible jokes that would make me laugh even when I tried not to. Memories flooded me in a tidal wave, tearing down the walls I'd tried so hard to build.There was a knock on my door one evening, and I opened it to find my mother standing there, holding her phone, her expression soft yet questioning. "He's called me a few times, you know," she said gently, her voice filled with concern. "He sounds... lost, broken even." But I didn't respond. Instead, I shook my head, swallowing the urge to let the dam break, to reach out just one more time.In the quiet moments, my mind replayed our last encounter over and over, twisting every word, every tear, and every broken promise. I'd loved him, maybe more than I had ever admitted to myself. But that love had been laced with expectations, and in the end, the weight of those expectations had cracked what little we had left.A part of me longed to reach out, to hear his voice one more time, to reassure him and myself that we hadn't meant to hurt each other this way. But I knew that bridge had burned. And as the weeks passed, I realized that some scars run deeper, marking us in ways no apology or goodbye could ever erase.

He wasn't coming back to school until Monday, five days away. Five days for me to pull myself together, to make sure I didn't fall apart when I saw him again. It hadn't been as hard with him absent—I had my friends to lean on, and with them, life felt lighter, almost like paradise. Better than paradise, actually. No one knew about Hamza except Ziya, who had tried, at least fifty times this week, to coax me out of the house for something other than school. But each time, I'd refused, giving her excuse after excuse until I'd become something of an expert in evasions.

Sona had invited me to a sleepover at her place, which I'd managed to dodge, and then Anu had asked me to lunch, another invitation I skillfully avoided. Now, here I was, sitting alone on my bed, staring at my reflection in the oval mirror on the wall opposite me. My eyes, once bright and almond-shaped, now looked hollow and darkened, like shadows had settled into their depths. They reminded me of his eyes, the way they had looked that day—haunted, hurt, raw. It was from crying so much, night after night, and yet every time I thought I'd run out of tears, another wave of sorrow would rise to the surface.It was strange, sitting here, feeling like a stranger to my own reflection. Part of me resented him for making me feel this way, for turning my world into something so painful. And yet, despite everything, I couldn't deny the parts of me that missed him deeply, in ways that I couldn't begin to understand.I felt my phone vibrate beside me. It was another text from Ziya, asking if I wanted to come over for dinner. She was relentless, her words always a gentle nudge, never pushing too hard, as if she understood that I needed time, but she didn't want me to disappear entirely. I stared at her message, wondering if I should respond, if I could open up to her even a little.

But just as I began typing, I stopped. What could I possibly say? How could I explain that I was both longing for him and yet glad he wasn't here? That I was somehow both stronger and more broken without him?