Sasa Vivin used to think love would be enough.

For a while, it was. Waking up to his messages, long talks under warm yellow lights, laughter tangled in pillows

it all felt like something permanent. Like she had found the place where she could finally rest.

But time has a way of wearing down even the softest beginnings.

Lately, he had started pointing things out. The things she lacked. The things she wasn’t. “You’re too naïve sometimes,” he’d say. “Don’t you think you should be doing better by now?” His voice wasn’t angry, just disappointed. And somehow, that hurt more.

She tried harder. Talked less. Smiled more. She wanted him to see her

not the flaws he has, not the hesitations nor the face she hides.

but the girl who loved him more than anything. She built herself around his joy. His happiness became the only proof she needed that she was doing okay.

She feels he is the only medicine for her pain her so called "love disease."

But he never really smiled the same way anymore.

One night, she asked, quietly, “Do you still want to be with me?”

He didn’t look up from his phone. “You’re overthinking again.”

“No,” she said, voice trembling, “I’m just asking. If you don’t... it’s okay.”

A long silence. Then, finally: “Take care of yourself, Sasa.”

That was it.

No “don’t go.”

No “I still love you.”

Just “take care.”

It was in that moment she realized

he never truly did love her. At least not in the way she needed to be loved.

He just went home without saying a word.

In that sudden silence, only the sound of a door slamming and her heavy breathing could be heard.

She sat there where he left her for hours without moving a muscle.

Tears flowed down her cheeks, over her chin like rain pouring from her eyes.

After all these years, why doesn’t he love me the way I loved him?

Did I not give him enough?

She kept thinking it was her fault.

That she lacked something in loving him.

Maybe I got it wrong.

Maybe he didn’t mean to leave.

I’ll just call him… ask him one more time.

She called. It rang.

He picked up on the last ring.

Silence.

Long, heavy silence. Minutes passed like hours.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“Maybe… maybe it’s the best thing. For you. For us.”

She hung up and didn’t call again. Neither did he.

And the silence that followed was not peaceful. It was heavy.

Sasa cried. For days, then weeks. Her pride told her not to beg, not to call. But her heart screamed into pillows at night. Everything reminded her of him , old songs, empty seats. The world kept moving. She stayed curled in pieces.

But pain has a quiet way of shaping strength.

She didn’t know it then, but something was breaking in her so something better could grow. Slowly, one cracked moment at a time, she started choosing herself again.

Even if the mornings still felt hollow. Even if healing didn’t look like what people said it should.

She had let go of a man she once believed was her home.

Now, she had to learn to build one inside herself.

Months went by, but it felt like years.

Some days were fine, but on other days, it felt like she was carving her own heart with a blunt knife.

Sometimes, she thought of herself as she punching a wall

a wall that never felt a thing,

but her hand hurt just like her heart did.

And that wall was him.

She remembered everything

every word they exchanged,

every place they met,

every moment they fell in love.

It all played in front of her eyes like an old film she couldn’t pause.

She sat in a corner, quietly asking herself where it all went wrong.

How did they fall apart?

Everything had seemed fine at first...

or was she just too blind to notice the red flags he had waved?

It was he who confessed first.

He who committed.

She wasn’t ready then, but his warmth had slowly captured her heart and soul.

He gave her the sense of security she craved,

and she believed he was ready to offer it fully.

They met at the wedding of a mutual friend.

She was the kind of beauty that turned heads

people whispered “you’re beautiful” as she passed.

Her laugh was known, almost famous,

and anyone who had heard it would say,

“Your laugh is beautiful

it lights up everything.”

She wore a blue sari that day, with matching bangles and long earrings.

Everything about her was radiant.

Quiet, but always smiling with the ones she knew.

That’s when she saw him.

He was dressed in a black suit with a blue tie

tall, tan, and striking.

They kept exchanging glances from across the room,

never saying a word,

never getting close.

Hours passed that way.

Then the music began,

people filled the dance floor,

and even in the crowd, their eyes kept finding each other.

Neither of them had the courage to close the distance

until the groom’s sister came over, smiling,

and said, “You both are wearing matching colors. You should dance!”

She just giggled, a little shy.

He asked, “Should we?”

She replied, “Why not?”

And so, they danced.

They danced for hours

until past midnight.

When it was time to leave,

she wondered, Will I ever see him again?

Does he feel the same way I do?

Just before parting, he asked for her number.

She teased, “Don’t you use social media?”

He shook his head and smiled.

“Nah, I don’t like wasting time there.”

She liked his answer.

So she gave him her number.

They didn’t talk much that night

just danced.

But as she left, he stood still,

watching her walk away.

She could feel his gaze on her back.

At the gate, she turned

he was still watching.

She waved.

He waved back.

It felt so cinematic,

like something out of a dream.

She couldn't sleep that night.

Not until dawn.

And the first thing she did when she woke up

was check her phone.

Even during the car ride home,

she had stared at the screen,

half-hoping, half-praying for a message or call.

But there was nothing.

Not even a single text from him.

She hadn’t received a call not today, not yesterday, not even tomorrow.

A week had passed, yet she still couldn’t forget his striking aura. She remembered everything vividly.

By now, she should have known he wasn’t the man she had hoped for. She should’ve seen the red flags he gave off in the early days.

But even so, she waited. And she regretted not getting his number when she had the chance.

She told her colleagues about him.

They told her to protect her pride, to be a woman with attitude.

“If he ever calls,” they said, “don’t pick up. Just remember this.”

Riva her close friend was among them. Sasa told Riva everything, and Riva always gave her the best advice. Normally, Sasa would take it.

But this time… she wasn’t sure she could.

Because she was waiting for his call as if her life depended on it, like she was holding a lottery ticket she was almost sure would win.

Whenever she thought about him, her heart pounded.

“If he wanted to call,” she had once whispered to herself, “he would’ve called the day we parted.”

That thought made her sad but still, she hoped.

Then came the morning.

5:38 AM. Her phone rang.

Half-asleep, she picked it up without checking the caller ID.

A voice spoke unfamiliar, at first.

“Hey, is this Sasa?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“You remember me?”

“Who is this?”

“I’m Luke.”

Luke.

Luke…

Her sleep vanished, like she’d just taken a shot of strong black coffee.

She smiled

shyly, involuntarily.

Her heart swelled.

She knew this was a moment she’d remember for the rest of her life.

She was happy, but somewhere deep inside, her heart questioned:

Why didn’t he call sooner?

Why now, after weeks of silence?

She wanted to ask.

But she didn’t dare.

Maybe he had a reason. Maybe he lost his phone. Maybe he was just too busy.

She didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking something that might come off as desperate.

To her, it felt like a stupid question. Or maybe, she was just afraid of the answer.

Her doubts were real,

but her excuses were weak, especially in a world where people were glued to their phones 24/7.

Still, she told herself he was different.

He had once told her he wasn’t the type to spend time on his phone.

Whatever the truth was

whether his phone died, or this morning it suddenly sprang back to life

She was just… happy.

So happy that he called.

He asked her what she was doing, how her days had gone, and if he had woken her up.

She quickly interrupted, “No, no! You didn’t. I was about to wake up anyway.”

(Lie.)

She would’ve jumped with excitement if it hadn’t been a phone call.

In reality, she was the kind of girl who slept till noon.

She was practically a night owl.