5:37 PM.
He pressed Send, and gently closed the laptop lid.
Not even ten minutes had passed before Julian opened it again.
No reply.
He closed it.
Went to the kitchen. Drank some water. Came back.
Still no reply.
He sat on his bed, then got up.
Opened the window, then sat again in front of the screen.
6:14 PM.
Nothing new.
He started talking to himself:
– "What the hell am I doing? He's just some guy. He wrote one silly sentence after reading an article. Happens every day."
– "I'm not even interested."
Yet his fingers kept checking the site.
Every ten minutes. Every five. Sometimes every two.
⸻
8:22 PM.
Still nothing.
He turned off the laptop and lay down.
The bed was cold. The room quiet.
He closed his eyes.
"He's just a regular guy…"
"He doesn't even know who I am…"
"Why am I waiting?"
⸻
8:55 PM.
Notification sound.
Julian jumped from the bed as if all those thoughts had vanished.
He opened the laptop, and the message screen popped up…
Sender: Adrian
Time: 8:54 PM
"I didn't expect you to actually reply…
I don't know why, but I felt there was something real in your words.
I'm sorry if I bothered you."
Julian smiled unconsciously, then began typing…
But before he could finish, another notification popped up.
Adrian had written again:
"You know what? I rarely write to anyone.
I'm studying engineering, and everyone around me is obsessed with walls, equations, and sports tournaments.
But sometimes I feel like I'm getting lost in it all.
So I don't know why… but I felt like I wanted to talk to you."
⸻
Julian sat still for a few moments.
Then wrote, under the name "Leila":
"I don't think I've ever heard anyone say something quite like that.
Feeling lost even when everyone around you acts like everything is fine… I know that feeling.
And you can write to me whenever you like."
⸻
Adrian replied quickly:
"Thank you. Truly, thank you.
I never imagined someone who doesn't know me could understand me this quickly."
"By the way…
My name is Adrian. I'm from a small town, living in a college dorm.
I try to act strong, though I don't even know for whom.
Sometimes I wish I could be someone else. Or just… someone who's understood."
"And you?
Leila… is that your real name?
Who are you, behind the words?"
⸻
Julian hesitated.
Then slowly typed:
"I'm someone who lives behind a curtain.
I write to escape. I laugh so no one asks questions.
I put my name on words that aren't fully mine, but they feel a lot like me.
I don't exactly know who I am… but I'm trying to find out."
⸻
He paused.
Looked at the screen.
His hands were shaking slightly—not from fear, but from a strange feeling of being… seen.
Then Adrian's reply appeared:
"It's okay not to know.
Sometimes we just need to be seen… even before we understand ourselves."
⸻
Julian smiled…
Then whispered to himself:
– "But… what am I doing?"