Late night CALL

Have you ever met someone who awakens something entirely new within you? Someone you'd wait a lifetime for? They transform you so deeply that you no longer feel like the same person. You'd forgive them endlessly, even without them asking. They're older, yet you see them as vulnerable, needing love and care.

Their imperfections only deepen your affection-the way they insist they never get jealous, yet give you long, heartfelt lectures if they catch you talking to someone else. They make you smile effortlessly, stumbling over their words in your shared language, their awkward grammar only adding to their charm. Even when they're not entirely right, their passionately delivered speeches still inspire you.

They're the person who promised you everything, and with each passing day, you find yourself loving them more, despite their flaws.

Now imagine that person walking away-not because they've found someone else or because of any flaw of yours, but because they've lost hope. They leave, not out of indifference or betrayal, but out of a deep fear that they can no longer make you happy. Their departure isn't driven by anger, but by the sorrowful belief that they've become the problem, leaving you with a void, a lingering question: *How could they lose faith in something so deeply cherished?*

It seems absurd, doesn't it? I thought so too, and in my frustration, I lashed out, let my anger spill over. He promised to think of a solution, said he'd call soon. So, I waited. All day. But the call never came. When I finally reached out, I discovered the truth: he had blocked me. Just like that. No explanation, no closure. The person who promised me everything had shut the door without a word.