Alex put the phone face down and left the room light on. He told himself he would sleep, but he didn’t. Instead he opened a new note and began to write. He wrote like people do when they need to get something out of their chest — messy, urgent, not pretty. He wrote the way he would say it if she ever read it.

Sorry in advance — this might make you feel bad. Read at your own risk.

Hi CC,

I hope the song is out and we’ve parted ways for good. I’m writing this after our call about the song. On that call you were so gentle. You promised you’d reply on time, starting tomorrow. You said “yeah,” but then you went quiet again. That silence — you don’t know how it stings. Maybe you never will.

I told you I’d tell you something when you remembered. I still want you to show me the clothes…  the ones I said would remind me of us. I want to keep something that smells like this time. I don’t know if we’ll ever talk like before, or call again, but I hope we do.

You said sorry because you didn’t have words. Don’t worry about that you always talked more in the beginning. I don’t want to call what we had a “situationship.” That word hit me wrong. Imagine telling your parents that they are in a situationship. That’s how small it felt when you said it.

I still love you. I still fucking love you. I don’t understand how you could be so calm about it. Sometimes I wonder if your ex really did what you said. Maybe you don’t know what love is, or maybe you do and you just don’t keep it the way I would. You made me cry more than anyone. If you ever marry someone, please… don’t make them go through this. Don’t make someone else hurt like this.

I check Telegram every thirty minutes. I turn off the other notifications so I don’t get distracted, but I check that app like it’s a clock. When you answer with “hm,” “ya,” “oh,” “good night,” it feels like someone pushed a paper over a bright thing. The video you sent with that song playing in the background.. you used it like it was nothing. It looked like another small thing to you. To me it was everything (saihiba).

The day you texted in the morning I felt light, like maybe we’d still make the song. Then you went quiet again and I thought… maybe this is really over. I told you how you treated me badly, and you said no calls, remember? I wanted one last call on your birthday. I wanted us to watch Saiyaara together, the movie we never watched. It felt like the last thing left to do.

Some days were good. We would text for fifteen minutes and laugh. One day we even exchanged pictures. One of the best days I had. Then came the fight. You deleted the whole chat after I said something in your language.. I used words you don’t like. To you, it was normal. To me, it meant the same thing no matter the language. Why is English okay and your language not? Have you forgotten how it feels from my side? I wait all day for your text. I don’t force you, I wait. Then you delete everything. What if I couldn’t find you again on Telegram? (I know you’d be relieved)

About the curse i dont want to take it back cause i told if i hurt you most then the cruse will come on me also I told you before that anything bad happens to you i need that to come up on me.. Maybe you forgot. I’m sorry. Tomorrow is your birthday. I planned things because I wanted us to end on good terms this time. Last time we didn’t end in good term well you blocked me. That hurt more than I can say.

Please, CC — think about that call. I want to send you some reels fromin Instagram if i can… cause its too many i cant take one by one and download it.

I don’t mean to punish you or to make you feel bad. I’m just trying to tell you how it was for me: the waiting, the blocking, the mess. So i want to tell that change — not for me only, but for your friends, your family, the people around you. Please. Grow. Don’t make someone else go through this kind of pain.

Maybe I’ll upload this chapter later and tell you to read it after we’re done. Maybe you’ll never read it. Maybe you will. Maybe it will mean nothing. But I still love you. I always will.

— Alex

He didn’t know if he would send it. He read it once, then again, and the words felt both true and stupid at the same time. He bookmarked the note, closed the app, but didn’t delete it. He wanted her to see the real part of himthe part that waited, the part that still hoped for a call, the part that wanted something small to hold the reels, the movie watched together.

Then he turned the phone over and finally let himself lie down. The ceiling was the same color as always. He breathed in, held it for a second, and let it out. The note stayed unsent. The ache stayed, too, folded into the long pile of late nights he’d already made.

LOVE YOU CC  ALWAYS WILL THANK YOU GOODNIGHT….