Black

You and Black went to the same university. Friends, yes, but not close enough to share your deepest secrets. He was a surprisingly good person: easy to talk to, attentive, warm. And before you knew it, you'd fallen in love with him. But you never brought yourself to confess—fearing rejection... or worse, losing what you already had. That day, after class, you were walking home as usual. He usually walked beside you, but today he "had things to do." You didn't pay any attention to it... until you saw him. He was walking along the other side of the street. A girl was next to him. His arm was on her shoulders, and they were laughing about something—easy, sincere, as if the whole world belonged to just the two of them. You froze. My heart sank painfully, as if something inside me had suddenly snapped. My gaze remained fixed on them, unable to tear itself away. My throat went dry. “He’s my man…” you whispered almost inaudibly, as if to yourself, as if that could change anything. Your lips pressed into a thin line. You turned away and walked on, trying not to look back. But before you left for good, you still caught his eye. He noticed you. And it seems I could tell from your eyes that something was wrong.