Oneshots

The Playlist You Left Me (Hessa)

Tessa

Everyone says that time heals everything. But time hasn't heard this playlist.

I am heartbroken. I am confused. I am lost. I am not eating. I am not getting much sleep. I am not myself anymore. Not since he broke me.

In this moment, only music keeps me alive. I scroll all day on Spotify, listening to heartbreak songs. Tonight everything feels different. I feel something heavy on my chest. It's a weird feeling.

It's almost 2 a.m. and I should be sleeping, but the phone... I wince every time it lights, hoping that he sends me a text. But no. Just random pictures sent on Spanchat from my friends. I'm scrolling on Spotify until I stop when I see my name. In the section "Share with you" I find a playlist with an interesting name – my name. It is called "For Tess <3". It was created yesterday. By him. By Hardin.

It's been a few weeks since everything. Why would he give me a sign now?

I hover my finger over the title for a few seconds. Why would he do this? What if it's a sick joke of his and his friends only to make me suffer more? Maybe it's a playlist full of break-up songs and passive-aggressive Taylor Swift songs. But what if I open it? What could go wrong?

I tap it and I see the first song. "Yellow – Coldplay". I feel that heavy thing on my chest. It's our song, but we never called it that. We listened to this song one night when we were stargazing from the hood of his truck. He was holding me with a silent promise of not letting me go ever, but it looks like it happened.

I remember how warm we were even if outside was cold. In that moment, the silence between us felt louder than the music. Now, hearing the song again, I ache in places I didn't know could hurt. Hardin picked this song on purpose.

My thumb hovers over the next track. But I can't bring myself to press it. Not yet. I'm asking why is he doing this now? Why he is doing this after he ghosted me? He walked away without saying any words. No closure. No explanation. He just disappeared like I never was an important person in his life. And now he's back with a playlist. I wish I could delete it, but my heart is still in love with that bastard.

The next song, "From the dinning table - Harry Styles". The lyrics hit hard: "Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry too...".

My breath catches. He knew I loved this song. He used to call it my "sad girl song". He was always saying that it makes me cry for no reason. But he also knew it was the only song I ever said "felt like me". What are you telling me, Hardin?

I scroll down the list of songs. Some are obvious references. Songs we danced to. Songs we laughed over. But one stands out. A title I don't recognize. "Bench in the Rain". That's not a real song. It's a message.

That's where we carved our initials: HT. He made this playlist as more than just a goodbye. It's a breadcrumb trail. A map. A message meant for me and only for me. And I think he is trying to say something he couldn't say with words.

I don't even think. I just grab my jacket, slide on the hoodie that still smells like him, and walk.

It's stupid. It's freezing. But my feet know the way. I haven't been to the bench since... before. It's just a park. But to us, it was everything.

The first time he kissed me was here. The first time he made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I wasn't too much. And now I'm here, standing in front of that stupid bench like it might answer me.

Rain starts falling in soft, apologetic drops. How poetic. I sit. Slowly. The wood is cold. There, barely visible under the peeling paint, are the carved letters: HT