It was April when my boyfriend broke up with me.
No explanations, no closure, just silence.
I'd seen it coming, though. Maybe that's why it didn't completely crush me. I had already started preparing myself for the ache that would follow… still, knowing something is coming doesn't make it hurt any less.
High school had ended in February, and I was now spending my days preparing for entrance exams. Between late-night revisions and heavy thoughts, there was one thing that still sparked a little light in me,Spanish. I'd always been fascinated by the language: its rhythm, its warmth, its music.
So, one evening, I brought it up with my parents. To my surprise, they agreed. And just like that, I found myself enrolled in a language school, one train ride, one subway, and one anxious heart away from home.
It was my first time traveling on the underground metro. I felt a mix of excitement and nerves, clutching my bag tightly, my reflection flickering on the train window as the tunnels rushed by.
When I finally entered the classroom, my heart skipped. It was spacious, far more polished than any institute I had seen before. A projector hung from the ceiling, a wide screen glowed faintly at the front, and the professor's desk stood neatly arranged beside a clean whiteboard. Everything looked so… professional.
I quietly took a seat near the middle, placed my bag on the desk, and waited. My thoughts, however, were far from calm. They wandered, back to Tyler. His sudden distance. The unread messages. The way things fell apart without warning.
What if someone told him something about me? What if he believed them?
What if… he just stopped loving me? Or maybe he never did?
The door handle clicked, pulling me back to reality.
Someone walked in. A boy.
He glanced at me briefly, and I managed a small smile. It was hard to tell if he smiled back, his face was half-hidden behind a mask. He chose a seat a few desks away, looking effortlessly calm. He had that kind of quiet presence that didn't need attention, yet drew it anyway.
But I shook the thought off. My mind was still a maze of Tyler's words and the hollow space he'd left behind.
Soon, other students trickled in, followed by the professor, a woman with kind eyes and an easy smile. She greeted us warmly and began the introductions.
When my turn came, I sat up straight.
"Buenos días, maestra. Mi nombre es Lizzie," I said confidently.
She nodded approvingly. I could feel the others' eyes on me, but I didn't mind.
Then came his turn.
"Good morning everyone, I'm Gabriel," he said, his voice soft but clear.
Oh. It was him.
I hadn't expected his voice to sound that gentle. It had a calmness to it that lingered for a moment longer than I wanted to admit. Still, I told myself—why should I care?
The class went on smoothly. The professor made everything sound easy—introductions, greetings, small phrases. For a while, I even forgot about Tyler. Just for a while.
When I got home, Mom asked how my first day went. I told her it was nice, maybe a bit nerve-racking. She nodded, half-listening, half-lecturing as usual. She could be strict, but I knew it came from a place of love. Parents have their own strange way of protecting us.
Later that night, I grabbed my phone and texted my best friends.
Lizzie: hey gurlsss, that language school is sooo cool!!
Olivia: ohh yayyy! Did u make any friends yet??
Lizzie: not yet but… there's this guy in my class. I'm not like… attracted to him or anything. But I keep thinking about him and idk whyyy!!??
Olivia: calm down, gurl. You won't feel anything for him. Tyler's still living rent-free in your head 24/7!!
Lizzie: ugh fine. You're right. Anyway, gotta go. See yaa.
She was right. Tyler still occupied too much space in my thoughts.
Even now, part of me hoped he'd text, just once, to clear up what happened between us. But he never did.
Maybe someday, I'll learn to let it go.
Maybe someday, I'll finally stop waiting.
But for now… I still remember the way he kissed me.
And that memory? It still burns.