The Cafe Near His House
By February 2023, we hadn't spoken in a while.
That had become our pattern.
We'd talk.
Disappear.
Talk again.
Then disappear once more.
I was getting used to it.
One day, I visited a newly opened cafe in town and, like any other person my age, posted it on my Instagram story.
A few hours later, my phone buzzed.
Again.
"Aadi replied to your story".
The cafe happened to be near his house.
Of course it was.
At that point, I was starting to believe the universe had run out of ideas and was simply recycling the same coincidence over and over again.
His message was simple.
"You could've come home."
I laughed.
Not because I was actually going to show up at his house, but because it felt like the kind of thing only he would say so casually.
What started as a story reply turned into a conversation.
And somehow, that conversation felt different.
For the first time, we weren't just exchanging random messages.
We were actually talking.
About music.
About life.
About the little things people usually keep to themselves.
That day, I told him I was a Taylor Swift fan.
I also told him things I rarely told other people.
I remember being surprised when he actually listened instead of making fun of me.
The conversation ended that night.
But the next day, he replied again.
He sent me a reel with some soft song playing in the background.
At the time, I was having a terrible day.
I was exhausted.
Emotional.
And honestly, not in the mood to talk to anyone.
Yet somehow, I ended up telling him.
Looking back, I probably shouldn't have shared that much.
We barely knew each other.
But I did.
And what surprised me wasn't that I opened up.
It was how he responded.
He was kind.
Genuinely kind.
There was no teasing.
No awkwardness.
No trying to fix everything.
Just care.
The kind of care that doesn't demand attention.
The kind that simply stays.
At one point, he even sent me a picture of cookies he had made that day.
Just to cheer me up.
It was such a small thing.
Simple.
Ordinary.
But somehow, it stayed with me.
Because sometimes people don't realize how memorable it is when someone chooses to be gentle with you on a day you're struggling.
Then, of course, being us, we eventually found something to argue about.
A small disagreement.
Nothing dramatic.
Just another reminder that we seemed unusually talented at fighting for two people who weren't even together.
And just like that, the conversation faded again.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
And I told myself it didn't matter.
That he was just another person I'd talked to for a while.
Just another almost friend.
Just another chapter that was quietly ending.
What I didn't know then was that our story wasn't ending at all.
It was only taking a pause before beginning again.
And the next time it started, it would begin with a song.
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