Four years passed.
No one noticed how the seasons changed in her eyes.
The girl who once laughed at silly jokes…
who cried at movie endings,
who gave her lunch away just to see someone else smile—
was now… a shadow of herself.
She didn't talk much anymore.
Not because she had nothing to say—
but because no one ever really listened.
The world had taught her a brutal lesson:
Even when you need someone the most,
even when your fingers tremble dialing a number—
sometimes, nobody picks up.
She stopped calling.
Now, she walks through life with a quiet armor—
not strong, not brave… just tired.
Her eyes don't shine like they used to,
they just… watch.
She's cold, they say.
But they don't know the warmth she gave was never returned.
They don't know the kind girl died a slow death…
every time she reached out and was met with silence.
But even silence becomes familiar after a while.
Even loneliness feels like home—
when you've lived in it long enough.