Chapter 9: THE ONE WHO NEVER WAS

Title: Love in the Shadow

Journal Entry: October 30th, 2024

The pressure of exams can push even the strongest to their breaking point. For me, it felt like I was on the edge, needing a distraction to keep myself afloat. That's when I downloaded Tinder. The notifications of matches temporarily lifted my spirits, giving me a fleeting sense of control. At first, it was harmless—a way to escape the stress—but deep down, I knew it was more. It was me, searching for proof that I was enough.

I scrolled aimlessly through profiles, ignoring the pile of unread books beside me. Then, his face appeared. Charming, confident. Without much thought, I swiped right, and to my surprise, it was a match. I wasn't looking for love—how could I, after the year I'd endured? No, I was just looking for a break from reality. Little did I know I'd find both.

We started chatting. He was charismatic and confident, with a persistence that felt oddly comforting. Early on, he was honest—he had a long-distance girlfriend and plans to relocate outside the country. At the time, it didn't bother me. I wasn't searching for anything serious; I couldn't even handle serious. Why would I take him seriously? But something about his words lingered, his presence staying with me even when I tried to focus on other things.

Final exams came and went, and somehow, we got closer. He listened to me in a way no one else did. He became a safe space, an escape from the uncertainty of my life. I began to see him as a reflection of myself—the male version of me. I felt a connection I hadn't felt before, something raw and real. With him, I didn't feel the need to wear my usual armor.

I wasn't planning to fall for him. That's probably why I did.

But he wasn't mine. I knew that from the start. Still, I ignored it. Ignored the warning signs. Ignored the fact that I was slipping into an all-too-familiar pattern—a pattern of using distractions to cope with the pressure, the loneliness, the fear of facing myself.

He made me feel wanted, safe, and seen in ways I hadn't felt in years. He was patient, attentive, and communicative—everything I thought I wanted, at least thats what I told myself. But I wasn't happy. I couldn't be.

Eventually, the veil lifted. I began to see him for what he truly was: another escape.

I found myself staring into the distance more often, memories of my past in school flashing through my mind. The struggles, the heartbreaks, the fleeting moments of joy. I asked myself: Was I proud of the person I had become? I realized that I wasn't. I had spent so much time looking for meaning in others that I forgot to find it within myself.

He wasn't the answer. None of them were.

It was time to stop the cycle. To stop running from my emotions and start facing them. To let go—not just of him, but of everything tying me to my past. The patterns, the pain, the endless searching for validation.

I packed my bags. My decision was uncertain, but my resolve was clear. I needed to focus on myself. To discover who I was without leaning on someone else for emotional support. I headed toward the park, feeling the weight of my decision pressing down on me. But in that weight, there was also a sense of relief.

As the bus pulled away, I looked back one last time. I didn't know where I was going or what I'd find. But for the first time, I wasn't running toward someone else.

I was running toward myself.

Sometimes, the right person comes at the wrong time. Or maybe, he wasn't the right person at all.