There used to be a place. Where I had a lover that I loved, and she loved me back.
Somewhere tucked behind the old science building near the school, half-swallowed by ivy and the bones of forgotten architecture, there was a little concrete ledge barely wide enough for two people. You wouldn't find it unless you were lost—or curious. We were both.
That spot… it was ours.
Back then, I wasn't this. I wasn't hollow. I laughed. I loved. Maybe too hard. Maybe in all the wrong ways. But I felt alive.
And she…
She made me feel like I mattered, or understand people.
Remembering sprinting to meet her after class. I'd bring her some dumb snacks from the vending machine, even the ones I knew she didn't like, just so I could tease her when she made that scrunched-up face. She called me selfish once—said I was always trying to make her laugh, even when she was tired or sad.
But she still laughed. Every time.
Then, I found myself back there. That old ledge, still cracked, still forgotten. But this time… everything felt heavier.
She was already waiting. Sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, that faraway look in her eyes. I should've known.
She barely smiled. Just a twitch of her lips, polite. Not warm. Not her.
I sat beside her like nothing was wrong. I even cracked a joke, something dumb about how the pigeons had claimed our spot. She laughed, but it was wrong—off key. Forced.
Silence followed, thick like fog. It clung to us.
Then she said it.
"I'm not happy anymore."
I blinked.
Not angry. Not sad. Just… confused. Like she spoke in another language.
She kept talking. Her voice soft, gentle—like she was trying to spare me.
"I've tried. I really have. But something's missing now. I don't know when it started but… I feel empty around you."
Each word was a needle. Not a scream, not a punch—something worse. A quiet undoing. A soft betrayal.
Then the final cut:
"I… I cheated on you. A while ago."
I didn't breathe. I didn't blink. I just froze.
Time didn't stop. It dragged.
I didn't yell. I didn't ask who. I didn't cry.
I just stared.
Like my brain couldn't process it. Like it buffered the information in slow motion.
Cheated.
On me.
Her?
The one who called me "my one and only" when we sat under the stars.
The guy who gave up every damn piece of himself to keep her smiling.
I tried to say something. Anything. But all that came out was a breath. A single, shaking exhale.
She stood up slowly. Looked at me like she was already gone.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You'll understand someday."
No... I wouldn't.
She walked away. Just like that.
I couldn't move. I couldn't.
That ledge became a grave, and I was the ghost buried under it.
The air around me didn't feel cold—it felt empty. Like everything had been drained, like the color was stripped from the world. I sat there, staring at where she had walked away. I kept expecting her to turn back. To laugh. To say it was a bad joke, a test, anything.
But she never did.
And slowly, something inside me caved in. Not all at once. It didn't explode. It rotted. Quietly. Like a fruit bruised under its skin.
9th grade passed like fog. I showed up, sure. I smiled when people talked to me. I did enough to avoid questions. But I wasn't there.
Not really.
I'd sit at that ledge after school sometimes, pretending like we were still just late. That maybe she was on her way. Maybe the world would rewind just a bit. But it never did. The past doesn't come back. It just echoes.
My friends noticed something. They'd ask if I was okay. I'd say I was tired. They stopped asking.
Even he—my best friend, the one who would later twist the knife even deeper—he pretended not to see it. Or maybe he did, and just didn't care.
Every laugh I faked took a piece of me. Every class I sat through, every lunch period I stared into nothing—it all hollowed me out. And eventually… I forgot what full even felt like.
I became the background. A person-shaped silence.
And somewhere along the way… I decided I deserved it.
---
My head jerked up.
The classroom was nearly empty. The teacher was gone. Only the soft hum of the clock and the late-afternoon light spilling through the blinds remained.
I must've fallen asleep during last period.
Again.
I rubbed my face, trying to piece together where the dream ended and where the memory began. It didn't matter. They felt the same now.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and left without a word. No one noticed. No one ever does.
The walk home was a blur of footsteps and static noise. Cars passed. Birds chirped. Someone laughed in the distance. But all of it felt like it belonged to another world.
I reached my house. Same peeling paint. Same cracked step.
Opened the door.
No one said anything.
My mom glanced up from her phone. My dad didn't even look away from the TV. My little sister asked me if I brought snacks. I shook my head. And my younger brother was maybe in his room playing the game.
Then I went upstairs.
Closed the door.
Sat on my bed.
And let the silence wrap around me again.
It was almost comforting, that stillness. The way it pressed in like an old friend. Familiar. Predictable.
Because here… in this room… there was no pretending.
Just me.
The one who was left behind.