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My life has always followed a very simple routine.
Wake up. Help the lady of the house. Shower. Eat—if necessary.
But mostly, I read. Or sketch.
That day was no different.
I was alone, but not quite lonely.
I picked up a book, let the pages take me in for a while, then eventually got bored and turned to my phone. Honestly, I had forgotten about the little interest I had the night before. Our conversation had been so dry it was almost forgettable.
But to my surprise, there it was a morning greeting. From her. Although there were quite a few other messages from other people, these were the ones who bored me the night before so I just ignored them.
And turned to the only one who chased the boredom away.
Ecstasy took over.
Now, I was excellent at controlling my emotions. I could flip them on and off like a light switch. From joy to rage to indifference and back again. That ability often made me feel like I had a fragmented personality, but I saw it as a strength.
And in that moment? I didn't try to fight it. I let the excitement flood in.
No—scratch that. I didn't let it in. It invaded me.
Her message didn't seem special. It sounded like basic courtesy, nothing more than a polite gesture. She didn't even try to sound engaging. But how could I let go of such a potential fun "object"?
I pushed.
Questions bloomed from nowhere. I twisted even her most casual words into deeper questions, turning fragments into full conversations. I was on a roll. A new adventure. And I was ready to dive in.
But then I noticed something.
She sounded down.
Her tone had a weight to it.
I asked what was wrong.
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Me: You don't sound okay. What's wrong?
Her: I'm fine.
Me: Nah. That's not convincing. You sure?
Her: Yes, I'm fine.
Me: Come on. You can talk to me.
Her: It's nothing really.
Me: You're sure?
Her: Yeah.
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She was stonewalling. But I knew better.
What's the easiest way to get a stranger to confide in you?
You confide in them first!
So I traded a past event of mine for a small bit of trust. I gave her something ,just enough to spark a little emotional bond. And it worked. She opened up. She told me her reason although not entirely but enough for me to get a general idea on what was going on .
And my excitement?
Gone. Just like that.
It was like flipping a switch.
The energy vanished.
I gave her a few pieces of advice, some comforting words that I barely meant, and then I left the chat.
"Pathetic. They're all the same."
That was my thought. Cold? Maybe. But it was honest.
The rest of my day played out in the usual fashion, quiet, uneventful, and boring. Just like the many that had come before.
But somewhere, buried under the disappointment, was a small whisper.
A little echo that said: she still replied…
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Later that night, I still logged in to see if she was there.
I had left earlier with slight annoyance, but deep within me, all I could see was a naive little kid being played like a fickle.
And I wanted to be the one to shape her, build her into something of my choice.
If you'd asked me to describe her at the time, I would've simply said:
"Childish."
That's exactly how I saw her. Nothing more, nothing less.
As I logged on the chat before bed, I didn't even push on the conversation I had abandoned earlier. Instead, I dove into something different—her hobbies, her language, likes and dislikes.
And to my surprise, she spoke a language I could practically call my favourite in the country.
That… that made the little adventure feel more interesting.
She said she loved music.
And strangely, she claimed she had no friends.
I just brushed that off as another lie—one of those overly repeated stories people tell on social media. The whole "I have no friends" drama that young ones love to play with. But truth is, when you meet them or know them a little better, you realize it's just a wallpaper. A front. And what lies behind it can be… disgusting.
Still, we kept chatting.
We talked about her place and mine, and to my surprise, she actually sounded more excited, more engaging than before.
But I had to say goodnight—for whatever reason.
And I left.
Though I stayed awake for half the night, tossing between boredom and random thoughts, I had once again forgotten about her before dawn.
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