prologue
Before everything unraveled, there was a moment of stillness.
A breath held in the dark.
A second that felt like forever like the universe knew what was about to collapse,
and paused...
just long enough to let them remember how good it almost was.
They weren't friends.
Not really.
Not anymore.
But they weren't strangers either.
Because strangers don't remember the way you bite your straw when you're nervous.
Strangers don't sit across from you in class, knowing exactly why you're not looking up.
Strangers don't leave behind inside jokes on the margins of old notebooks
or know the exact moment your laughter turned fake.
No...
They were something else.
Something messier.
Something with scars and silence and sharp edges hidden under memories that still burned when touched.
There was too much history.
Too many late-night group calls, voice cracks in 3AM confessions,
half-written drafts of essays that turned into emotional dumping grounds.
Too many moments when someone almost said,
'Don't go."
Or
"Stay."
But chose silence instead.
It didn't break all at once.
It cracked
slowly. Quietly.
With every text that went unanswered.
With every project deadline pushed back.
With every glance across the classroom that didn't linger like it used to.
Then came the words.
The wrong ones.
Said at the worst time.
Thrown like grenades.
And no one ducked.
One mistake.
One secret told too soon.
One heart given without a promise.
That's all it took.
To turn something soft into something dangerous.
Some of them fell in love with people who were never meant to stay.
Some of them mistook kindness for something more.
Some of them wanted to be chased.
Others were too tired to run.
And a few?
Were just scared of being forgotten.
But this isn't a story about soulmates.
This isn't a fairytale.
No one's coming to save anyone.
This is a story about timing.
About the moments that pass before you're brave enough to reach for them.
About the people who almost loved you right
but didn't.
Because the world doesn't wait for almosts.
It's about the nights they didn't sleep.
The eyes swollen from crying.
The hallway avoidance.
The passive-aggressive apologies.
The "I'm fine" texts that meant the exact opposite.
It's about sitting next to each other,
but feeling miles apart.
About wanting to forgive but not knowing how.
About wishing you could go back to the moment before it all began to fall.
They didn't know it yet
but the group project wasn't just about grades.
It was a test of loyalty.
Of honesty.
Of what you'd sacrifice for your pride... or for someone you used to love.
And somewhere in the jealousy,
in the slow-burn chaos,
in the quiet moments of overthinking and overfeeling
they stumbled into something fragile and real.
Not love. Not yet.
Maybe understanding.
Maybe closure.
Or maybe just the wreckage of everything they used to be.
This story hurts.
It bites back.
It doesn't apologize for being messy.
It doesn't promise healing.
But it tells the truth.
The kind you whisper to yourself when no one else is listening.
Because sometimes,
the hardest stories to tell
are the ones that almost ended differently.
So read on.
Trace the ache in every sentence.
Feel the weight of everything they left unsaid.
And remember:
This is a story about what happens
when someone walks away...
and someone else decides they're worth following anyway.
Even if it breaks them...