"There are people who make you feel like you're too much.
And there are people who make you feel like you've always been just enough."
————————————————————
The literature seminar was quiet that day, the kind of soft hush that made Aira's heartbeat feel louder in her chest.
Professor Toh read aloud from a book none of them had ever heard of, her voice thick like velvet:
"Loneliness is not the absence of people, but the absence of being seen."
Aira didn't mean to react, but her fingers twitched on her notebook, pen smearing ink across the page.
From the other side of the room, someone looked up.
Ray.
He didn't smile. He just saw her.
And somehow, that was more than enough.
Later, as students gathered in small discussion groups, the girl beside Aira—Mae—leaned in gently.
"I really liked your point in class the other day. About how love in stories doesn't always have to mean romance."
Aira blinked. "You… remembered?"
Mae smiled. "Yeah. It made me think about my sister and how she was the first person I ever truly loved. You worded it in a way I couldn't."
Aira's chest softened. This wasn't performative. It wasn't forced. It was kind. Easy.
They talked more. About books, about burnout, about how sometimes healing is boring because no one claps for you when you say no to a toxic person.
"I'm trying to build a better circle," Mae admitted. "Like, people who aren't just in my life by accident."
Aira nodded. "Me too."
After class, she didn't go straight home like usual. Instead, she sat in the quiet campus garden, where the flowers looked tired but still tried to bloom.
She journaled again.
"Healthy doesn't mean loud.
It can be soft.
It can look like someone who listens.
Like someone who doesn't need me to perform."
"Sometimes, healing is meeting someone who doesn't ask you to shrink.
And realizing that maybe—just maybe—you're not too much.
Maybe you were just in the wrong room."
That night, Hana messaged her.
[ HANA: ]
so you're just done with us now?
lol
good to know where you stand.
Aira stared at the screen.
Her heart flared with guilt. Then fear. Then—clarity.
She didn't respond.
She didn't have to explain herself to someone who never once tried to understand her.
Instead, she texted Mae.
[ AIRA: ]
hey, you wanna grab coffee sometime this week?
[ MAE: ]
absolutely :) thurs?
[ AIRA: ]
perfect.
For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel like she was in a war.
She was still sad, yes. Still overthinking. Still waking up at 2 a.m. wondering if she was loveable or just tolerable.
But…
She also felt a little bit more like herself.
Like she was finally peeling off a costume she didn't realize she had worn so long it became skin.