Dylan

Dylan fell out of love with Lololoshka quietly—so quietly that at first it could have been mistaken for fatigue. A pause. A difficult period. Lo clung to these explanations like the handrails of a falling elevator, just to avoid telling the truth. Because the truth breaks faster than a blow. Before, Dylan held him with his gaze—not with words, but with his gaze. Checking: are you there, have you disappeared, have you broken? That gaze had everything at once—tension, threat, protection. And then it disappeared. Not abruptly. It simply stopped being directed at Lo. And Lololoshka felt it in his body, the way you feel the cold when a door closes.
He became unnecessary.
Not superfluous, but precisely unnecessary. And it was killing me slowly, day after day.
At first, Lo cried at night—quietly, so no one could hear. He covered his mouth, buried his face in the pillow, ashamed even of his tears. He repeated to himself, "You're an adult. You can handle it." But his heart wouldn't listen. It ached constantly—without pause or relief. Every morning began with fatigue: fatigue from loving, from hoping, from waiting for some sign that he still mattered.
Dylan was there—and that was the worst part. He spoke calmly. He moved calmly. He looked calmly. As if he were looking at someone who had once mattered. As if he were looking at the past. Lololoshka found himself envious of even the air around Dylan—the air that touched him, the place where he sat, anyone who heard his laughter. Jealousy didn't scream—it ate away, slowly, like rust.
Lo watched Dylan move on, and felt something inside him die, but not completely. If it had died, it would have been easier. But it simply writhed. Memories came without resolution: on the bus, in the silence, in the dark. Every "then," every "remember," every moment when it seemed indestructible—all of it punched him in the gut. He wanted to disappear from these thoughts. But only Dylan disappeared—from his feelings. And Lo remained. With a love that no one else needed.
Gradually the tears ended and in their place came emptiness.