A Love Left Unspoken

Love and hate. Two sides of the same coin. That's what they say, isn't it?

If you'd told me when I first met Lakshay Sinha that he would become the center of my most complex, confusing emotions, I would've laughed in your face. Because, honestly, Lakshay and I didn't exactly hit it off. His quiet demeanor and unshakable calm irritated me in ways I couldn't explain, while my impulsiveness and need to fill the silence with words seemed to amuse him more than anything.

From the start, we were like fire and ice, colliding, melting, and reshaping each other in ways neither of us asked for. Our friendship-if you could even call it that-was a constant tug of war, full of unspoken words, stolen glances, and arguments that lingered long after the shouting stopped.

But here's the thing about love and hate: you don't always know which is which until it's too late.

Looking back, I can't pinpoint the exact moment things shifted between us. Maybe it was the way his smile softened when he thought no one was looking. Or how he could read me better than anyone else, even when I didn't want to be read. Maybe it was in the spaces between our fights, in the rare moments when we weren't too busy trying to outsmart or outlast each other.

Whatever it was, it crept up on me, subtle and unexpected, until one day I realized that the lines between love and hate had blurred.

This is our story. A story of misunderstandings and vulnerability, of walls built and broken, of two people who were never meant to fall for each other-and yet, somehow, did.

It's messy, complicated, and far from perfect. But then again, so are we.