「 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 」

Unspoken Pain

“I wouldn’t laugh at your pain,” Ayana finally said, echoing something Dylan had once told her during a rough patch in their lives. “I understand that we both wear masks. But it’s time to choose who we want to be without them.”

Rayyan’s expression flickered, a mix of disbelief and grief. “And I chose to move away. Away from you, even from Dylan, although he doesn’t know about this yet. Away from everyone.”

“What do you mean?” Rayyan stepped closer, desperation spilling from his voice like sand through an hourglass.

“You can’t go like that. I’m sorry, Ayana. Can we at least talk? I know how brat I can be, how much I push you away, but I have my reasons.”

Ayana clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. “I, too, have a reason, Rayyan. I only have a few months here before I go. Be grateful you are the first to know.”

Silence enveloped them, thick and suffocating. For a second, she thought she could hear the thudding of her heart echoing in the stillness.

“A few months?” Rays of surprise laced his words as he backed away slightly, grappling with her declaration. “What do you mean? You’re just leaving? Just like that?”

“It’s not just like that!” Ayana snapped. “It’s not an impulsive decision. It never was. I’ve been living under this façade, telling myself everything is okay, but it’s not. I can’t pretend anymore.”

Rayyan ran a hand through his unruly hair, frustration boiling beneath the surface. “You’re so dramatic!”

Ayana laughed, but it was a brittle sound that hurt her own ears. “You think I’m being dramatic? You don’t see me. I’m tired of the masks. I’m tired of hiding behind jokes and smiles. I’m tired of being the person you think I am. I need to discover who I am without all that, even if it means leaving you and everything we built behind.”

“Are you really okay?” His gaze softened, reminding her of the childhood memories they’d shared—late-night talks, popcorn fights, and dreams whispered under the blanket of stars. Memories that now felt distant, like a half-remembered dream.

“No, I’m not okay,” Ayana admitted, the confession tasting metallic on her tongue.

“And I don’t think I ever was, if I’m honest. There’s a weight on me that may never lift. I learned from Dylan that life is short and messy and beautiful, but I also learned that I need space to figure out my own mess. I need to breathe.”

Rayyan blinked rapidly as he absorbed her words, the weight of them settling into the pit of his stomach. “But, Ayana, you can’t just run away from your problems.”

“Running away has never worked for anyone,” Ayana countered, her voice steady.

“But I’m not running away to escape. I’m moving away to confront myself and my fears. I need to be unapologetically me, and I can’t do that here, surrounded by reminders of what we once had.”

“And what if you realise you were better with us?” His voice was thick with emotion, the suggestion hanging heavy in the air.

“Then I’ll come back,” she offered, her voice trembling slightly. “But for now, I must take this step—whatever that looks like. I owe it to myself to live for me and not for anyone else.”
He crossed his arms, his features harshening, but it was a mask—desperation and vulnerability flickering beneath.

“You think leaving will answer your questions? You think you’ll find who you are out there in the world? Just like that?”

“Yes,” she affirmed, the certainty burning bright in her chest. “I need the distance to make sense of everything. I need time to breathe without the expectations of who I should be.”

Rayyan stepped forward, the distance closing between them as his eyes searched hers.

“Then maybe…I need to find myself too. You’re my best friend, Ayana. We’ve been through everything together. Can’t we do this together? Can’t we find ourselves in this mess together?”

Ayana articulated a sad smile, knowing he carried his own struggles behind that daunting question. “If we both went on this journey together, would we truly grow?”

“What if we find ourselves both lost?” Rayyan whispered, the vulnerability stark in his gaze.

At that moment, they stood at a crossroads—not just of paths but of their lives. Ayana realised that they were each other’s masks, too.

Their friendship was a comfort but also a constraint; they had relied on one another to fill the spaces of loneliness rather than brave those expanses individually.

“Maybe it’s time we wear our own masks in the sunlight,” she finally replied. “Not to hide our true selves but to explore who we both are beneath them. It’s time I shed mine, even if it means walking away for a while.”

Tears gathered in Rayyan’s eyes, and for a heartbeat, Ayana moved to comfort him. Instead, she hesitated, understanding that part of their journey was to find strength in their own vulnerability.

“Can we promise this isn’t goodbye forever?” he asked softly, voice laden with promise and pain.

“No,” Ayana said, her heart heavy. “It’s not goodbye; it’s a new chapter. And maybe, just maybe, it will lead us back to one another when we’re finally ourselves.”

With a heavy sigh, she turned and walked away, feeling lighter with each step—knowing the journey ahead would lead her to the truth she was desperately seeking, one step at a time.