I never meant to fall in love with him.Not really.It just… happened.Somewhere between the laughter, the long glances, and the conversations that stretched past study hours, something grew quietly between us — soft, wild, and terrifying.He wasn't mine.Not officially.Not ever.But he called me his best friend.He said I was different. Said I looked like Coco Jones, so he called me "Coco."I named him "Bfam." Brother from another mother.A lie wrapped in a nickname.Because deep down, he wasn't just my friend. He was the boy who made my hands shake without even touching me.We shared everything — stories, secrets, dreams.We even talked about the things people our age weren't supposed to say out loud.And in all of that, there was this unspoken truth between us,this… something.A tension.A maybe.A nearly.But then, he chose her.She was quiet. Pretty. Soft. Everything I wasn't.I was too stubborn, too loud, too complicated.At least, that's what they said.That's what his friends told him.And maybe that's why he started sitting beside her in the refectory,while I sat somewhere else, pretending it didn't burn.But he never stopped talking to me.Not fully.Not completely.He brought me a biscuit once — a small, sweet thing he knew I shouldn't eat."Do you still eat sugar?" he asked, almost smiling.That moment still lives in my chest.He told me once that he used to have a crush on me,but he wouldn't say when.Said I lied when I denied having feelings for him too.Maybe I did.Maybe lying was easier than breaking.And now, he's gone quiet.Not physically — he's still here, walking past me in the corridors, eyes tired, books in hand —but his spirit…that fire we used to have…it's flickering.He says he doesn't know what's wrong with him.Says talking won't change anything.Says being romantic is a disaster.He told his girlfriend he needed space.He never explained why.But to me…he almost did.Almost.So here I am.Still holding onto the almost.Still wondering what broke him.Still wondering if I'm part of what broke him.This isn't a fairy tale.It's not a perfect love story.It's a slow-burning ache written across stolen glances, buried truths, and exams we're pretending to care about.And maybe, just maybe —by telling this story,I'll figure out where we lost each other.Or if we ever really had each other at all.
