CHAPTER TWO
I Think I Lost You
After all of that, I don’t think we made much progress.
We talked. We called. Sometimes we were both available, and sometimes we disappeared into our own lives.
There was no clear direction to whatever we had.
We weren’t exactly building something. We weren’t making promises. We weren’t having serious conversations about what we meant to each other.
We were simply there.
And maybe that was enough for me at the time.
I didn’t ask too many questions because I didn’t think I had the right to ask them. We had never really established what we were, and I wasn’t interested enough to demand anything from you.
At least, that’s what I believed.
Our conversations came and went, and life continued.
Then, at some point, I met another guy.
Yes, another guy.
HAHAHAHAHAHA.
Apparently, my life had other things planned for me, and you were not the only person who could enter the picture.
We started dating, and it lasted for about a month.
During that time, I genuinely forgot about you.
Well, almost.
I didn’t block you or anything like that. Sometimes you would still send me messages, but I wouldn’t reply. My attention was somewhere else, and I didn’t feel any particular need to continue whatever we had started.
You were still there, somewhere in my WhatsApp conversations, but you weren’t someone I thought about very often.
I was busy getting to know someone else.
And for a while, I thought that was the end of our little story.
I thought we would simply become two people who had once talked online and then gradually moved on with our lives.
No dramatic goodbye.
No final conversation.
Just silence.
But the guy I was dating turned out not to be what I expected, either.
Eventually, I realized that we weren’t a good fit, and I decided to end things.
And when I say we weren’t a good fit, I mean that there were things about him that made me question why I had even given the relationship a chance in the first place.
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For example, he wanted to have a threesome with me.
I remember thinking, WHAT?
HAHAHAHAHAHA.
I mean, everyone has their own preferences, but that was certainly not what I wanted from a relationship.
And somehow, that experience made me look back at my previous interactions with you a little differently.
Not because I suddenly realized you were perfect. You weren’t. I didn’t know enough about you to make that kind of judgment, and there were still plenty of things about you that I found confusing.
But compared to what I had just experienced, talking to you didn’t seem so bad.
And that is such a ridiculous reason to reconsider someone, isn’t it?
Imagine thinking about a guy again simply because the next guy turned out to be worse for you.
Romantic? Absolutely not.
Funny? A little.
But that’s how things happened.
After ending that short-lived relationship, I didn’t immediately think about coming back to you. I wasn’t sitting around planning our reunion or wondering whether we were meant to find each other again.
I just went back to being myself.
I continued with my life, and you continued with yours.
At least, that’s what I assumed.
You were still a stranger. Someone I had met online, someone I had spoken to occasionally, someone who had never really become a permanent part of my everyday life.
And I thought I could leave things that way.
I thought that whatever connection we had would eventually disappear on its own.
Maybe we would stop texting.
Maybe we would forget each other’s voices.
Maybe one day, I would scroll through my contacts, see your name, and feel absolutely nothing.
I thought that would be the natural ending to a story like ours.
Two people meet by accident, talk for a while, lose interest, and move on.
Nothing complicated.
Nothing worth writing about.
But apparently, life doesn’t always follow the stories we create in our heads.
Because somehow, after all that time, we found ourselves talking again.
And this time, something was different.
I just didn’t realize it yet.
To be continued…
