He replied,
"I can't believe someone loves me."
I stared at the message for a few seconds.
Then laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because if only he knew.
If only he knew how much space he had already taken inside my head.
How every morning started with checking his messages.
How every night ended with reading our old chats.
How I pretended not to care whenever he disappeared.
How I waited for him anyway.
But I didn't tell him any of that.
Instead I replied,
"Well, now you know."
A few seconds later he sent a voice note.
I pressed play.
His voice sounded softer than usual.
"Kelly... I'm sorry. My situation isn't really good right now."
Kate.
Of course.
It was always going to come back to Kate.
He continued.
"You know everything already."
No.
I didn't.
That was the problem.
I knew enough to get hurt.
But never enough to understand.
"I just need some time."
Time.
Another thing he kept asking from me.
Time to figure things out.
Time to talk to Kate.
Time to understand his feelings.
Time.
Time.
Time.
Meanwhile I was sitting here falling for him more every day.
I replied,
"Hnn."
Because honestly?
I didn't know what else to say.
A few minutes later another voice note came.
This time he was singing.
Actually singing.
I rolled my eyes so hard.
Then smiled.
Because somehow this idiot could ruin my mood and fix it at the same time.
I hated that.
The next few days were weird.
Nothing bad happened.
Nothing good happened either.
We talked.
But not properly.
The conversations felt shorter.
Like he was there.
But not really there.
Like he was talking to me while thinking about someone else.
And I already knew who that someone was.
One evening I posted a picture of myself.
Nothing special.
Just a random picture.
The song attached to it was called "I Need You."
That was it.
I wasn't thinking about anyone.
I just liked the song.
A few hours later my phone buzzed.
Max.
I opened the chat.
"Is that about me too?"
I stared at the screen.
My heart did that stupid thing again.
That stupid thing where it starts hoping.
I should've said no.
I really should have.
Because it wasn't about him.
But a part of me wanted it to be.
So instead I replied,
"Maybe."
The typing bubble appeared immediately.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Then disappeared.
Finally a voice note arrived.
I smiled automatically.
I don't know why.
Maybe because every voice note felt personal.
Like he was choosing to talk to me instead of typing.
I pressed play.
And within five seconds my smile was gone.
"Kelly, let me tell you one thing clearly."
The moment I heard that sentence my stomach dropped.
Nobody starts a sentence like that before saying something good.
His voice sounded serious.
Too serious.
"I can't accept you right now."
I froze.
"You know everything about Kate."
There she was again.
Kate.
Always Kate.
Even when he was talking to me.
Even when he was explaining himself.
Even when he was apologizing.
Kate was always there.
"I can't hurt her."
I looked away from my phone.
Suddenly I didn't want to hear the rest.
But I kept listening anyway.
Like someone repeatedly touching a wound just to see if it still hurts.
"I know her past."
"I know what she's been through."
"I can't leave her."
Every sentence felt like a reminder.
A reminder that no matter how much he cared about me...
I was never the first choice.
Then came the part that made me laugh bitterly.
"I can't hurt you either."
Really?
Because he already had.
More than he probably realized.
He continued.
"You're the first person who ever told me you loved me."
My chest tightened.
I wished he never said that.
Because suddenly it felt like he was thanking me.
Not choosing me.
Just thanking me.
Like I was some sweet memory he'd keep while going back to someone else.
Then came the sentence I hated most.
"You deserve someone better."
God.
I hate those words.
People only say that when they're leaving.
When they're rejecting you.
When they've already decided you aren't the person they want.
The voice note ended.
I stared at my screen.
At his profile picture.
At his name.
At the boy who confessed first.
At the boy who kept saying he loved me.
At the boy who somehow made me fall for him.
And I felt pathetic.
Not because I loved him.
Because I was still trying to understand him.
Still trying to defend him.
Still trying to be the understanding girl.
The mature girl.
The patient girl.
While a part of me was screaming.
How the hell do you love two people at the same time?
I wanted to ask him that.
I wanted to scream at him.
I wanted to tell him how unfair this was.
How he gave me hope first.
How he made me believe there was something between us.
How he looked for me when I disappeared.
How he said "I love you" so easily.
But instead I typed:
"It's okay hehe. I'm used to getting hurt."
Lie.
Complete lie.
Because it hurt so badly I could barely breathe.
And somehow...
That was the night I realized I wasn't just liking him anymore.
I loved him.
And that was the biggest problem.
After that conversation, I stopped messaging him.
Not intentionally.
I just didn't know what to say anymore.
What was I supposed to do?
Talk normally after hearing all that?
Pretend nothing happened?
For the next two days, our chat stayed almost empty.
Sometimes I opened Instagram and saw him online.
Then I'd immediately go offline.
Sometimes I'd type something.
Then delete it.
Sometimes I'd open our old chats and reread them like a complete idiot.
Looking for signs.
Looking for answers.
Looking for proof that I wasn't imagining everything.
The worst part?
I missed him.
Even after everything.
Even after he basically told me he couldn't choose me.
I still missed him.
I hated myself for that.
One afternoon I was scrolling through Instagram when I saw Aria's story.
She was crying.
Again.
Honestly, I never really trusted Aria.
Maybe that sounds mean.
But she always had some drama going on.
Someone was always hurting her.
Someone was always making her cry.
And somehow she always ended up being the victim.
Still...
I replied to her story.
Asked if she was okay.
She started venting immediately.
Paragraph after paragraph.
And I sat there comforting her.
Giving advice.
Telling her things would get better.
Funny, right?
I was helping someone else heal while I was falling apart myself.
The entire time I was talking to her, one thought kept running through my head.
Max.
I wondered if he was talking to Kate.
I wondered if he missed me.
I wondered if he even noticed I stopped messaging him.
Then I got angry at myself.
Because why was I still thinking about him?
He had made his choice.
Maybe not officially.
But he had made it.
And it wasn't me.
The next day was school.
And honestly?
I thought that would help.
I thought seeing my friends would distract me.
I thought being away from my phone would make everything easier.
I was wrong.
Very wrong.
Because that day...
I had to see Max.
And seeing him in real life hurt a lot more than reading his messages ever did.