Not a Losing Heroine
I was left all alone in the restaurant.
The chair across from me was still slightly pulled back, like a reminder that he had been there just moments ago. The food sat untouched, steam slowly fading into the air.
Did I do something wrong?
But… what exactly did I do wrong?
I had only spoken honestly. I had only said what I felt.
Then why did it hurt so much?
We live in two different worlds.
His words echoed in my mind again and again, refusing to fade.
Different worlds?
We live in the same country.
We eat the same food.
Now, we even breathe the same air.
So why did his words feel like a wall I couldn't cross?
My chest tightened. My fingers curled against the edge of the table, nails digging into my palm as if the pain there could distract me from the ache inside.
Why does everyone I care about leave me behind?
Jay left.
Then Rahul.
And now… him.
My throat burned. I packed the food mechanically, paid the bill, and walked out of the restaurant before the tears could fall. The evening air felt heavier than before, pressing down on my shoulders.
Maybe I was being dramatic.
Maybe I just wanted attention.
Or maybe… I was just tired of being left behind.
My hands trembled as I took out my phone.
I called Rahul.
The phone rang for a few seconds before he answered.
"Hey! What's up?" he asked, his voice as casual as ever.
"Nothing special," I said quietly.
"Hmm?" He chuckled. "What's the matter? Or did calling your ex-boyfriend suddenly feel awkward and you forgot how to talk?"
Despite myself, I let out a small laugh.
"Yeah… maybe."
"Don't worry," he said lightly. "I'm not that pathetic. Besides, I have a girlfriend now, okay?"
Then his tone softened. "But if you're calling me as a friend, then tell me what's going on in that head of yours."
"Oh really?" I said, forcing a playful tone. "And you're still my best friend, okayyy."
He laughed. "So? Are you going to talk, or should I guess?"
And so I told him everything.
About my childhood friend.
About the date.
About the words that hurt more than I expected.
He listened quietly, not interrupting even once.
Then he spoke.
"Maybe someone told you that if he loves you, he'll come back—so you didn't try.
And maybe someone told him that if he loves you, he should let you go—so he did."
I went silent.
"In the end," Rahul continued, "there's always one missing chain. And that missing chain is communication."
He sighed softly.
"You both think you're doing what's best. You both act like tragic heroes. But real life doesn't need drama—it needs honesty."
My grip on the phone tightened.
"So… what should I do now?" I asked quietly.
"First," he said firmly, "talk to him. Confront him. Ask him what he really feels. Start again from zero if you have to. Make him believe—through your actions—that he belongs in your world."
He paused, then added jokingly,
"And if he still avoids you after all that? Go straight to his house and ask for his hand in marriage. Khalas. Skip all sixteen episodes of drama and live happily ever after."
I laughed through the tightness in my chest.
"Okay…"
"Okay then. Take care," he said, and ended the call.
I lowered my phone and stared ahead.
For the first time, my heart felt… steady.
"I'm not going to be the tragic heroine anymore," I whispered to myself.
"I'm not going to be the girl who loses silently."
I wiped my face and stood up straighter.
"This time, I'm not running," I said softly.
"I'm choosing."
I dialed another number.
"Salina," I said calmly, "we're going back to our hometown. There's something I need to do."
I wasn't going to wait anymore.
I wasn't going to hope quietly.
I wasn't going to lose.