Haru

You met when you were sixteen and the world seemed too big and noisy.
At first, it was just casual conversation after school. Then walks. Then long evenings at the playground, sitting on a cold bench and sharing your stupidest thoughts. You laughed loudly and freely, and Haru always looked at you as if he couldn't understand how someone could be so warm. You shared everything you had with him. Sometimes an old blanket. Sometimes just silence next to him. There were days when you returned to his house and fell asleep on his floor. You never complained. For you, it was happiness.
Haru rarely talked about his feelings, but he showed them in small ways: he'd brush a strand of your hair, take your hand on the road, look at you so softly that your heart ached every time. Sometimes jealousy would awaken within him—sharp, painful, like an old wound. But you never gave him a reason. At eighteen, you moved in together. A small apartment, old furniture, a noisy refrigerator—and a feeling that the world had finally become cozy. In the mornings, you listened to his breathing, sometimes bringing him breakfast in bed. In the evenings, you cooked together, argued over music, danced in the kitchen, and watched old movies sitting on the floor.
No distances. Just you. But over time, something changed. At first, almost imperceptibly. Haru found a job. Then he started staying late. First an hour. Then two. Then evenings began to pass without him.
When he returned, his steps no longer made my heart beat faster—I was sleeping.
He didn't hug you anymore. He didn't ask about your day. You convinced yourself that he was just tired.
But the days turned into weeks. His gaze grew empty. His voice sounded less and less in the apartment. And somewhere deep inside, every cell began to quietly cry. You tried to make him jealous—laughing louder with others, talking longer with guys. But he didn't even look. And one evening, you realized you couldn't take it anymore. When he returned, you quietly said:

• Haru, what's wrong with you? You used to be jealous, but now... he took your face and said - sunshine... I have someone else.