The train rocked gently as it cut through fields that blurred into green and gold. Ren sat by the window, cheek pressed to the glass, watching villages flicker by like forgotten memories. His uncle's city wasn't far, just a few hours away, but his thoughts made every minute feel stretched thin, like time itself had slowed down to mock him.
His cousins had already called twice, their voices brimming with excitement.
"Bhaiya, we'll go to the arcade first! And ice cream after, promise!" one of them shouted over the line.
Ren smiled faintly, murmuring, "Sure, sure," though his mind wasn't with them.
It was still back in that chat window, staring at the word she had sent him the night before. Cool.
The single syllable sat in his chest like a stone. He had reread it so many times, almost hoping that if he stared long enough, it might transform into something warmer, something that sounded like her. But no matter how many times his eyes scanned it, it stayed the same. Detached. Distant. Final.
He shifted in his seat, tugging his hoodie over his face. Maybe I'm overthinking, he told himself. She's busy, that's all. Exams? Friends? Who knows?
But then, his thumb betrayed him, flicking open Instagram. Tulip's story was fresh a boomerang of her and a couple of friends clinking iced coffee cups, laughter glowing in their smiles. The caption read: new beginnings ☕🌸
Ren's stomach knotted. New beginnings? With who? Without me?
He locked his phone, exhaled sharply. "You're losing it, man," he muttered under his breath. "Not everything's about you."
Yet, before the train had even passed the next station, he had reopened the app, checking if she'd posted again. She had. A close-up shot of roses on a café table white ones this time. His pulse stuttered. He couldn't stop himself: Why roses again?
By the time Ren arrived, the city's air carried a different rhythm wider streets, trees arching over boulevards, markets alive with chatter. His uncle welcomed him with a grin and a pat on the back. The cousins practically dragged him to the guest room, bombarding him with plans.
Still, while his lips curved in polite smiles, Ren's mind stayed elsewhere. Every joke bounced off him, every laugh from his cousins passed through him like background noise. He kept glancing at his phone, half-praying, half-dreading a notification.
That night, after everyone had gone to bed, he lay staring at the ceiling fan spinning slow circles. His phone lay heavy in his hand. Finally, he caved.
Ren:Hey, you've been quiet. Everything okay?
The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. His chest tightened. Then
Tulip:Yeah, I'm fine. Just busy, you know.
Ren sat up, frowning. The words felt too light, too rehearsed. He typed quickly.
Ren:You sure? It doesn't feel like just that. Did I do something?
Minutes passed. He thought she'd gone silent. But then her reply landed:
Tulip:I don't know how to say this… I think I've lost interest, Ren.
Ren blinked, reading it again and again, his heart thudding so loud he could hear it in his ears. Lost interest? Just like that? After everything?
His fingers hovered above the keyboard, trembling.
Ren:What do you mean? Tulip, we were just… we were good, weren't we? What changed?
Her response came slower this time, each line cutting deeper:
Tulip:You're amazing, Ren. Really. But sometimes amazing isn't enough. We're too different your family, mine. Our beliefs don't match. You have dreams, I respect that. But I need something else. Something certain.
Ren's throat went dry.
Ren:But I thought we were figuring it out together. You told me once I made you feel understood. Doesn't that mean anything?
Tulip:It does. It did. But feelings fade. And I can't force them back just because I wish they'd stay.
Ren stared at the glow of his phone until it blurred. His thoughts crashed over each other anger, disbelief, desperation. He typed with frantic urgency:
Ren:Please, don't say that. We can fix this. We can fight through it, Tulip. Don't throw it all away just because it got hard.
But Tulip's next reply carried the weight of finality.
Tulip:Ren, sometimes love isn't about fighting harder. It's about knowing when it can't last. You'll hate me for saying this, but you'll see it someday. We come from different worlds. My family… your family… religion, expectations. We'll break each other if we keep going.
The words carved through him. He wanted to scream, to deny, to beg her to take them back. But his hands froze, useless against the truth she had dropped into his lap.
Finally, he typed the only thing he could muster:
Ren:So that's it? Just… goodbye?
Her reply was the softest cut of all:
Tulip:I'll always wish you the best. Goodbye, Ren.
And then, nothing.
The room spun. His chest felt like it was collapsing inward. Ren hurled his phone onto the bed, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes until stars burst behind his lids. He couldn't breathe. Every laugh they'd shared, every night they'd stayed up talking, every silly argument over chess it all replayed in flashes, mocking him with what he'd just lost.
When he finally found the strength to pick up his phone again, his hands shook as he scrolled through his contacts. He stopped at one name. Harvey.
Ren pressed call. The dial tone stretched forever before a groggy voice answered.
"Ren? Dude, it's midnight. What happened?"
Ren's voice cracked. "She's gone, Harv."
A pause. "What do you mean, gone?"
Ren swallowed hard. "Tulip. She ended it. Said she lost interest. Said we're too different. Religion, family… all of it. I… I don't know what to do."
Harvey was silent for a moment, the weight of his friend's words sinking in. Finally, he spoke softly but firmly.
"Listen, man. I know it hurts like hell right now. But you can't chase someone who's already decided to walk away. You'll bleed yourself dry trying to hold onto a ghost."
Ren closed his eyes, tears burning. "But I love her, Harv. I really" His voice broke. "I really thought she was it."
"I know," Harvey said gently. "And maybe she was… for a time. But not every path stays crossed. Sometimes the best thing you can do is let her go, before you lose yourself completely."
Ren bit his lip hard, his body trembling. The truth of it settled like a cruel anchor in his chest. Still, a small, broken part of him whispered: But what if I can't let go?