If you asked me a year ago what he was to me, I would’ve said “annoying,” without even thinking.
We fought over everything. Notes, grades, seats, group work. He had this way of looking at me like I was both a problem and something he refused to ignore. It made me angry. It made me talk back more than I should have.
People thought we hated each other.
Maybe we did. At least, that’s what I told myself.
But he was always there.
Too there.
If someone took my seat, he’d somehow make them leave without even raising his voice. If I forgot something, he already had it. If I mentioned something once, even as a joke, he remembered it weeks later like it mattered.
I thought that was just… him being weird.
Until things got more complicated.
There was a time I liked someone else. Or at least, I tried to. And somehow, he was always involved. Helping me text him, giving advice, even encouraging me.
It should’ve worked.
But every time I got close to that boy, something felt off. Conversations would suddenly go awkward. Plans would get ruined. Or I’d find myself laughing more when I was complaining about everything… to him.
I remember asking once, half joking, “Why does every date feel worse than just being with you?”
He didn’t answer. He just looked at me in this quiet, unreadable way.
I ignored it.
I ignored a lot of things.
Like how he didn’t like it when other boys got too close to me. At first, it was subtle. A look. A small interruption. Standing just a little too near.
Then it got more obvious.
One time, a classmate casually grabbed my wrist while talking. It wasn’t even a big deal. But before I could react, he was already there, pulling my hand away like it didn’t belong to anyone else.
“Don’t touch her,” he said. Calm. Too calm.
I laughed it off. Tried to make it seem like nothing.
But inside, I was confused.
Why does he care this much?
I asked him once. Straightforward.
“Why do you act like that?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“Because I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”
That should’ve scared me.
It didn’t.
That was the problem.
Then came the situation I still don’t know how to explain properly.
A stupid legal mix up. Family pressure. Papers signed too fast. What was supposed to be temporary somehow became real.
And just like that, I was… married to him.
It didn’t feel real at first. We still argued. Still fought over the smallest things. Nothing changed.
Except everything did.
He got worse.
Not in a bad way. Just… more.
More attentive. More controlling. More present.
If someone stood too close, he noticed. If I stayed out late, he knew. If I changed something small, he pointed it out like it mattered more than it should.
“You’re wearing something different,” he’d say.
“You noticed?”
“I notice everything about you.”
And the way he said it didn’t feel like a joke.
I tried to keep things normal. Treated him like the same annoying person I always fought with.
But there were moments I couldn’t ignore anymore.
Like when I almost got into an accident and he appeared out of nowhere, pulling me back before I even realized what was happening.
Or the way he’d quietly walk beside me at night without saying anything, just making sure I got home.
Or how, no matter how much we argued, he never actually left.
One night, after another pointless fight, I got tired.
“What are we even doing?” I asked. “We fight like enemies, but you act like…”
I couldn’t finish.
He stepped closer.
“Like what?”
I hesitated. Then said it anyway.
“Like I’m yours.”
He didn’t deny it.
“That’s because you are.”
My heart did something strange in that moment. Not fear. Not anger.
Something softer. Something dangerous.
“I never agreed to that,” I whispered.
He looked at me, steady, serious.
“You stayed.”
I didn’t have an answer for that.
Because he was right.
I stayed through the arguments. Through the confusion. Through the way he made my life more complicated than it needed to be.
And somewhere along the way, I stopped wanting to leave.
I still don’t fully understand him.
Why he notices so much. Why he cares so much. Why he looks at me like I’m something he refuses to lose.
But I understand one thing now.
He was never joking.
And maybe… neither was I.
