Love
The Girl Who Changed My Silence
The Girl Who Changed My Silence "What I Never Believed… Happened" I never thought my heart would soften. That a single glance could shake the cold walls I had built around myself since childhood. But here I am, telling my story with full honesty—no exaggeration, no romantic embellishments. I grew up in an emotionally barren environment. I never liked talking to girls. Even my sisters—I treated them with a quiet sort of contempt. I hated anything that had to do with emotions and believed getting close to a girl was a kind of unforgivable weakness. People around me found me strange, distant, even harsh. They couldn’t understand me… maybe they were right. I was always top of my class, passionate about learning, obsessed with perfection—especially in people. I came from a modest middle-class family, but I always dreamed of something higher, greater… purer. Flaws disgusted me. Even sitting with my friends became unbearable if one of them brought up a girl. Any girl. Even if he was just admiring his cousin or a child passing by. I saw it as filthy. Revolting. My mother often sighed, saying, "I don’t know what’s going to become of you when you grow up..." I remember that day like it was yesterday. We were in fourth grade. Our school was hosting a joint industrial-agricultural exhibition, with schools from all over the province. Since I was one of the top students, I was selected to help manage part of the event. A nearby girls’ school had their booth next to ours. I was assigned to coordinate with just one girl… and I refused. Flat-out refused to talk to her. Then, without warning, I found myself accused. That girl went to her supervisor and claimed I was harassing her with words! Despite everyone denying it… I was removed from the exhibition. From that day on, the doors to my heart didn’t just close—they were sealed shut. Years passed. I made it to university with the same harshness, the same aversion, the same isolation. I also picked up a part-time job in a decent place to support myself. Then one day She walked in. I don’t know how she entered the place, But she entered my soul first. Her eyes struck something deep in me. It was like I was wearing a new skin for the first time. A skin made of warmth… of wonder… of light. I stuttered. Words escaped me. I found my gaze locked in hers as if she was the mirror of my hidden self. And her gaze? Her gaze didn’t wound me. It awakened something I never knew was asleep. I barely heard the voice of my manager: "What’s wrong with you? She’s waiting!" I apologized, walked out, pretending I was sick Just to run away from this hurricane inside me. The next day She came again. Same time. Same calm. Same eyes. She kept coming. So did the looks. And between us bloomed a language of silence. Then one day, as I greeted her, she whispered: "Wow... it's been a while!" I froze. Blushed. "What?" I asked. She laughed. The manager walked in and said: "Don’t be shy. She’s my only daughter." Then added: "She saw you on your first day and liked you, but disappeared for a while due to illness. Later, she told her mother she liked you and begged her not to tell me, afraid I’d fire you!" I stood there Thinking Is this the end of my solitude? Is love even possible for someone like me? I don’t know But I do know this What came next was stranger, truer, and more beautiful than I ever imagined.
By Ali Sadeek Ahmedabout a year ago in Fiction
Love is so precious
The life of Robinhood has never been simple. At a young age, he lost both of his parents. In order to make enough money for his school enrollment, Robinhood worked in a tiny hotel serving tea and doing the dishes, while other kids clutched to their moms' saris or waited for their fathers after school. He was a boy who matured too quickly and was molded by resiliency rather than comfort.
By Tanjir Ahmedabout a year ago in Fiction
Heartbeat on Wheels
The road unfolded endlessly ahead, a silver pathway shimmering beneath the golden sunset. Aanya tightened her hold on the steering wheel, her heart racing as she caught a quick look at the man seated next to her. Riyan was in the passenger seat, softly humming along to an old Bollywood tune playing on the radio, his fingers tapping lightly on the dashboard.
By Mubarak Hossain Akashabout a year ago in Fiction
ALMOST YOURS. Content Warning.
Some people come into your life like a spark. Others? Like a slow burn that never quite dies out. For Amara and Jordan, it was always the wrong time. But never the wrong feeling. THE HISTORY They met in college. Same poetry class. Same sarcasm. Same playlist. Jordan was the kind of guy who filled a room effortlessly—charismatic, quick-witted, and always smiling. He had a way of making strangers feel like old friends. Amara was different. She observed quietly from the edges, thoughtful, always scribbling something in her worn-out notebook. While Jordan lit up conversations, Amara gave them depth. They became friends almost accidentally—bonding over a shared love for poetry, black coffee, and late-night indie playlists. Their conversations felt easy, and natural, like they’d known each other in another life. But Jordan had a girlfriend. And Amara wasn’t the kind of person to interfere. So they stayed friends. The kind of friends who texted “you up?” and meant “I need someone to talk to.” The kind who knew each other’s coffee orders, childhood fears, and what songs they cried to. The kind of friends who, if life had gone differently, might have been something more. They were each other’s almost. THE ALMOST MOMENT Graduation came, and with it, the inevitable distance. Everyone was moving on—careers, cities, new lives. One rainy evening, they met at their favorite café for what was supposed to be a simple goodbye. The place was quiet, cozy, and filled with the familiar scent of cinnamon and wet pavement. Amara watched the rain slide down the window while Jordan rambled about his new job in Chicago. But there was a heaviness between them, an unspoken question lingering in the air. Jordan leaned closer, his voice softer than usual. > “Do you ever think… maybe in another life?” Amara looked at him, her heart thudding in her chest. She wanted to say no, to laugh it off—but she couldn’t. “All the time,” she whispered. And then he kissed her. It wasn’t urgent or rushed. It was slow, unsure like they were both afraid it would break something if they moved too fast. It tasted like goodbye. It was a kiss filled with years of repressed feelings, aching hearts, and missed chances. A kiss they should’ve shared years ago—but never did. The next morning, he left. No note. No message. Just gone. TWO YEARS LATER Life moved on, as it always does. Amara got a job in publishing and moved into a small apartment with too many plants and not enough sunlight. She dated, smiled, and lived—but something always felt unfinished. She didn’t hate Jordan. She just didn’t understand. Then, two years later, at a mutual friend’s wedding, she saw him. He looked the same—maybe a little older, maybe a little more tired. The same messy hair, and the same warm smile, but something behind his eyes had changed. When their eyes met across the room, it was like time folded in on itself. Later that night, under the string lights on the patio, he approached her. “I owe you an apology,” he said. Amara raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed but heart pounding. “I wasn’t ready,” he admitted. “Back then… I didn’t know how to handle it. You. Us.” “And now?” she asked. He hesitated. “Now I know exactly what I lost.” She sighed, a sad smile on her lips. “You were never really mine to lose.” THE ENDING They danced once that night. Slow. Quiet. No promises. A song neither of them remembered played in the background. For those few minutes, it felt like nothing had changed. Like they were twenty-two again, standing in the rain. But when the song ended, she stepped away. Amara left the wedding with her heels in hand and her heart intact. She didn’t look back. Because now she understood: Some people aren’t meant to stay. Some loves are meant to shake you, shape you, and leave you stronger. He was her almost. And that was enough.
By Rachel Vincent about a year ago in Fiction
Love in the Rainy Streets of Manchester
The rain-soaked streets of Manchester seemed to stretch on forever, a labyrinth of grey stone and twinkling lights that reflected the city's eternal melancholy. Amidst this backdrop of drizzle and dampness, two souls collided in a most unexpected way.
By Kedi’s Write’sabout a year ago in Fiction
"The One Who Was Never Mine..." 💔
In life, some people are incredibly close to your heart — yet always feel far away. Her name was Areeba. My cousin... but to me, she was much more than that. Every time she smiled, my world lit up. And when she was upset, it felt like the weather inside me changed.
By sufyan ahmed about a year ago in Fiction
