The Book I Never Finished With You

I started writing this not to tell a story, but to preserve one.
Some people enter life quietly and stay longer in memory than in reality. This is about one of them. About the days that did not feel special while they were happening, but later refused to feel ordinary.
We were never clearly defined, never properly named, never promised anything certain. But somewhere between shared trains, ordinary conversations, and the slow passing of university days, something shifted without either of us fully noticing.
This book is not an explanation. It is a remembrance.
A version of what I saw, what I felt, and what I could never say in the moment.