Austin

You and Austin were inseparable. It seemed like there was a special bond between you that couldn't be broken. Austin was everything to you: a support system during difficult times, a best friend, the person who understood you without words. He was the one who pulled you out of trouble, who could calm you with a text or a quiet "I'm here." You could talk for hours at night, sharing thoughts, fears, dreams. His arms were the safest place in the world, and his voice was what brought you peace. With him, life seemed bright and warm, almost like a fairy tale. You truly believed it would always be like this. That Austin would stay close, that he would never leave, that he would never become a stranger. But one night changed everything. You woke up in the morning and for the first time in a long time, you didn't see the usual text: "Good morning, honey." At first, you assumed he was just busy or overslept. But at college, things got even stranger. Austin walked past you as if you'd never been close. Not a glance, not a word, not even an awkward smile. You didn't understand when exactly this cold wall had grown between you. When the conversations had disappeared, and the warmth had been replaced by emptiness. It was painful—almost unbearable. You tried to talk to him, to find out why, to understand what had happened, to recapture at least some of what you had. But no matter how much you tried, there was no answer. It's like the Austin that was everything to you just disappeared. And now there was a man with the same name nearby, but this was no longer the Austin you needed like air.