Her Senior School crush

Cracks Beneath The Surface

Elle's POV-

As our relationship moved beyond the initial excitement of his proposal, I began to notice things more clearly. The whirlwind of emotions that had swept me up in the beginning was calming, and with that clarity came a new understanding of him—of us. The rush of infatuation was slowly giving way to reality, and in that space, I started to see the cracks that had always been there, quietly forming beneath the surface.

It wasn’t that anything had gone terribly wrong. In fact, on the outside, we seemed perfectly fine. We still spent time together, still laughed and shared moments, but there was a growing distance between us, one that couldn’t be ignored. His words were still sweet—he always knew how to say the right thing—but I couldn’t help but feel that the emotional weight behind those words was starting to slip.

Take, for instance, the weekend we had planned to spend together. It was supposed to be our time, something I’d been looking forward to all week. But on the day, he canceled last minute, something about his friends needing him for an urgent project. I tried not to be upset—it wasn’t the first time, after all—but the disappointment stung. His words of reassurance, the apologies, felt hollow when the actions behind them told a different story.

“I’m really sorry,” he texted later that evening. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I stared at the message, feeling a strange mix of emotions. I wanted to believe him—he sounded genuine, as he always did. But how many times had he said the same thing? How many times had I been left waiting, while his promises evaporated into thin air?

We met the next day, as if nothing had happened. He greeted me with that same smile, the one that used to make me feel like the only person in the world. But now, it was different. There was something missing, something that no amount of sweet words could fill.

“Are we okay?” I asked one evening after a long, quiet walk on campus. The question had been sitting on the tip of my tongue for weeks, but I hadn’t found the courage to say it until now.

He looked surprised, his brow furrowing slightly. “Of course, we’re okay. Why would you think otherwise?”

“I don’t know,” I began, choosing my words carefully. “It just feels like… sometimes, we’re not really on the same page. You say all these nice things, but when it comes down to it, I feel like I’m the one making more of an effort.”

He sighed, his expression softening. “I’m trying, I really am. I’ve just been so overwhelmed with everything lately. But I care about you, you know that, right?”

There it was again—those words. The ones that were meant to soothe, to reassure. And yet, they fell flat this time. It wasn’t enough. I needed something more, something real.

“I do know,” I said quietly. “But caring isn’t enough if it’s not shown. I just… I want to feel like I’m a priority, not something that comes after everything else.”

He reached for my hand, his touch gentle but firm. “You are a priority. I promise I’ll do better.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did. But deep down, I knew that promises weren’t enough anymore. The cracks in our relationship were growing, widening with each unfulfilled promise, each missed opportunity. His words were starting to feel like a band-aid on a wound that needed more than just sweet talk to heal.

Over the next few weeks, things fell into a pattern. He would promise to make time, to be more present, but life always seemed to get in the way. It wasn’t that he didn’t care—I could tell he did, in his own way. But there was always something else that took precedence: his studies, his friends, his own personal plans. I was always second, always waiting for him to follow through.