There are two of me.
The one the world sees — all jokes and quick comebacks, high energy and flawless eyeliner.
And the one who sits where I am sitting now — alone on a chilly stairwell after school, wrapping her knees like they're the only things that are keeping her together.
I was fine. I'm always fine.
Until I wasn't.
Today hurt worse t
han it usually does. I don't even know why. Maybe it was the fake smiles, or the friend who "forgot" I was visiting. Maybe it was just. all of it, at once.
I lied and told them I had a club meeting. I didn't. I just needed somewhere quiet enough to fall apart.
So I did.
No music. No makeup. No filter.
Just me. And the silence I pretend doesn't haunt me everywhere.
Then I heard footfalls.
I didn't move — until I looked up and saw him.
The quiet boy.
Of all individuals, it had to be him.
He spoke nothing. Only stood there, frozen like I'd caught him in the middle of something intimate. I wondered if he'd turn and go. He nearly did.
But he looked at me.
Really looked.
And something inside my chest creaked apart.
I smiled.
It wasn't real, but it was all I had to struggle with.
"Hey," I said, trying to sound like my voice wasn't trembling. "You lost or something?"
He shook his head.
Didn't move. Didn't say a word. Just nodded and kept going like nothing ever occurred.
Perhaps it was.
But for that one second, I wished he'd talk to me. Just one word. Anything.
I didn't want to be alone anymore.
I took my phone when he turned and walked away. Opened our conversation.
Still nothing.
Still just the "hey" I sent. No reply.
I laughed bitterly to myself. Maybe I was being dramatic. Maybe he saw the chaos and decided I wasn't worth playing with.
Wouldn't blame him.
I breathed. Calmed down. Smiled again.
And walked out like I hadn't lost it five minutes ago.
If someone had stayed. if someone had only said something. maybe I wouldn't be as scared of falling apart in front of others.