High school came to an end.
And so did my time with Lyra.
She no longer had a phone to text with. We were no longer classmates. There were no shared classrooms, no accidental glances, no chances of seeing her sitting a few rows away like before.
Just like that, she was gone from my days.
That's when the regrets started.
They came quietly at first—small thoughts I tried to brush away. What if I had been more outgoing? What if I was someone like Mike, who could talk without thinking twice? Or just… normal. Cheerful. Easy, like my cousins. People who knew how to speak when it mattered.
Maybe things wouldn't have ended the way they did.
Maybe I would have said something sooner.
Maybe I wouldn't have hidden.
Maybe I wouldn't have watched opportunities pass and called it fate.
I told myself there was no point thinking like that. But regret doesn't ask permission. It just sits there, waiting for quiet moments to surface.
After everything ended, life didn't stop.
We had a long break—eight, maybe ten months before the next chapter of our lives was supposed to begin. A vacation on paper. A pause.
The first month was the hardest.
The days felt unusually empty. Not dramatic. Just hollow. I missed something I couldn't properly explain to anyone. I felt lonely in a way that wasn't loud enough to be noticed, but heavy enough to be felt.
I kept opening our old conversations.
Scrolling through them slowly. Reading messages I already knew by heart. Laughing at the stupid jokes. Pausing at the serious ones. Wondering how something so simple had meant so much.
Sometimes I'd smile.
Sometimes I'd feel stupid for smiling.
I told myself it was fine. That this was normal. That people move on all the time.
Eventually, life did what it always does—it moved forward without asking if I was ready.
It was time for secondary school.
Plans were made. Forms were filled. Conversations about the future started happening around me. I decided I wanted to go out to study—to leave home, to be somewhere new.
My parents were worried.
They said I'd been pampered. That I didn't know much about the real world. That I wasn't prepared to live on my own yet.
They weren't wrong.
But I didn't really care.
I didn't argue much either. I just listened, nodded, let them say what they needed to say. Somewhere inside me, I felt detached from all of it. Like I was already half gone.
Life kept moving.
Things went on, and months slipped by without announcing themselves. Days blurred into each other, quiet and uneventful, until time stopped feeling like something I was aware of.
And then the pandemic came.
A disease that spread fast. Too fast. Offices shut down. Schools closed. Roads emptied. Plans dissolved overnight. The world paused in a way none of us had imagined.
By the time my secondary school was supposed to begin, there was still no news. No reopening dates. No certainty. Just waiting.
So days passed the only way they could.
I played games. Watched time disappear behind screens. Did whatever helped fill the hours. Slowly, without realizing it, I drifted back into my old life—the one where I stayed inside my head more than anywhere else.
Except this time, it came with regret.
The kind that sits quietly. The kind that doesn't shout, but never really leaves.
Time moved anyway.
June arrived.
Almost a year had gone by.
One day, without meaning to, I found myself thinking about the past again. About her. About small details I hadn't thought about in months.
And then I remembered something.
Or at least—I tried to.
I remembered Lyra once telling me about her birthday. June. I couldn't recall the exact date. Was it the 4th? Or the 8th? It had been so long, the memory felt worn around the edges.
I checked the calendar.
June 4th.
I wasn't sure. But something about that date felt right.
I didn't do anything about it.
I just went on with my day. Played games like usual. Let the hours pass.
Night came quietly.
And then my phone buzzed.
A notification.
An unknown number.
I stared at the screen for a moment before replying, wondering who it could be.
Who is this?
A few seconds passed.
Then another message came.
Is this Eshan???
My chest tightened, just a little.
Yeah… it is.
There was a pause.
Then a voice message appeared.
I hesitated before pressing play.
The moment the sound came through, my breath caught.
The voice was familiar.
"Eshan—!! It's me… it's Lyra!! I—I finally found your number!! After so much searching… seriously, you have no idea."
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
My room felt suddenly too quiet. Too small.
Before I could even react, another voice message followed.
"I finally got my phone back!! And the first thing I did—the very first thing—was try to find your number. But I couldn't. I'd lost it completely. I asked so many people, Eshan… so many. No one had it. I really thought I wouldn't be able to reach you again."
Her voice softened for a moment, then lifted again.
"But I finally got it!! From your cousin. When he told me, I swear—I almost yelled."
I just sat there.
Phone in my hand.
Heart racing in a way it hadn't in months.
A year of silence collapsed into a single moment.
I didn't know what to say.
I didn't know what to feel.
All I knew was this—
Just when I had convinced myself the story was over…
She had found her way back.