After 12th,
we stood at the school gate
longer than necessary.
Like if we didn’t move,
time wouldn’t either.
You said,
“Don’t forget me.”
I laughed.
As if forgetting you
was even possible.
We promised forever
with exam ink still on our fingers.
We thought love was strong.
We didn’t know
love is fragile
when life begins.
The first few weeks apart,
we tried to be brave.
Good morning texts.
Good night calls.
“I miss you”
typed more than felt.
But slowly
our conversations turned into updates.
“How’s college?”
“Good.”
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
Fine.
That word destroyed everything.
You started sounding distant.
I started sounding desperate.
You were busy building a future.
I was busy holding onto a past.
Some nights
I would scroll through our old chats
just to feel something familiar.
The way you used to say my name.
The way you cared about small things.
The way you needed me.
Now
you don’t need me.
And that hurts more
than goodbye ever could.
One day
I noticed something terrifying.
I stopped being your first call.
Then I stopped being your habit.
Then I stopped being anything.
You didn’t leave me.
You just slowly
learned how to live
without me.
After 12th,
we didn’t end loudly.
We faded.
Like chalk in rain.
Still there.
But unreadable.
Now when someone mentions your name,
I smile like you were
just a classmate.
But inside
there’s a classroom
still echoing
with the version of us
that believed love
was enough.
After 12th,
we didn’t become enemies.
We became strangers
with shared memories
and no future.
And sometimes,
when I pass a railway station at sunset,
I still see us
Two teenagers
who thought distance
was just a number.
We were wrong.