Joana and I clicked.
Our bond grew quick, like one of those songs you replay even though it hasn't hit the charts yet. We didn't have time, school was reopening soon, and we both knew it. I didn't have grand speeches. I just told her the truth.
"I'll miss you," I said. "These next two months are gonna be dry without you."
She laughed, sent back a smiley, then hit me with a "Same here."
It was light. Sweet. Comfortable.
But then there was Yvette.
Midnight texts with her had become routine. No alarms, no reminders, I just wanted to talk to her. About anything. Everything. We argued over the dumbest stuff like whether cats or dogs were better. She double texted. She replied on time.
It started to matter.
I wasn't blind. Joana was fun,smart, flirty and full of stories that made the time fly. But Yvette?
Yvette put the light in "light bulb".
I know, lame line. I even cringed thinking it. But that's how it felt.
Somewhere between 1:17 a.m. "what if we ran away" convos and 2:42 a.m. "do you believe in soulmates?" texts, something shifted.
And I didn't even realize I was standing at a fork in the road.
It hit me in pieces.
Not all at once, just small, quiet moments where I'd reread old messages and feel my chest tighten for reasons I didn't fully understand.
Joana made me feel like I had potential. Like I could be bold, funny, someone worth noticing. She was the kind of girl you romanticize from afar… and somehow, she laughed at my jokes and texted back with the same energy. She saw me.
But Yvette?
Yvette felt like home.
She didn't try. She didn't even have to. Conversations with her felt like I was exhaling after holding my breath for too long. Every time she double texted, I felt chosen. Every dumb cat-vs-dog argument turned into something deeper. A rhythm. A connection I didn't expect.
And somewhere in the middle of both girls, I started slipping.
I'd switch between chats like I was flipping channels on a TV I couldn't turn off. Laugh with Joana. Then get soft with Yvette. Flirt here. Get real there. No one knew it, but I was in two different headspaces… and neither one felt fake.
The guilt didn't hit like thunder. It was quiet. Slow. Sticky.
The morning I was leaving for school, I sat in the car, door still open, backpack by my feet, and everything just felt… heavy.
Messages from Yvette lit up my phone screen like little sparks. I didn't open them right away.
I just stared out the window, thinking about how messy I'd gotten, how I didn't mean for any of it to happen, but now it had.
Joana deserved clarity.
Yvette deserved honesty.
And me?
I just wanted to feel something real without breaking anyone.
But the truth was... I'd already started breaking myself.