End of 2022 – A Year of Waiting

She never called. Not even once.

I kept waiting, waiting, and waiting—scrolling through her photos, stories, posts, and snaps. A whole year passed, and still, not a single call from her.

I was always right. My instincts never fooled me. My overthinking, as much as I hated it, was always correct. My analysis was never wrong. She was just being nice to me all these years. That’s it. She never truly cared.

From the very beginning, she never called me first. Not once. It was always me who reached out. From my childhood till now, I was the one making every single call. Every time I got a phone—whether it was from my mom, friends, neighbors, or even relatives—I found a way to call her. But she never did the same. She never even tried. I should’ve noticed it earlier.

Every time I called, her mom, Shalini Aunty, picked up first, handed the phone to her, and that’s how we spoke. Maybe that’s the only reason she ever talked to me at all. Maybe she was never interested. Maybe I just assumed she was comfortable talking to me, that she had some feelings for me.

But then 2020 happened. The lockdown brought back all my old school friends. Everyone was reconnecting through Instagram, catching up, and reliving childhood memories. And then, out of nowhere, I got a chance to see her again. A group call was arranged by my friends. At that moment, I thought they were like gods, giving me a second chance, a moment to reconnect, a way to make things right.

And this time, she was the one who messaged me to join the call. That one simple message made my heart race. I was excited, nervous, waiting for the moment. I thought maybe, just maybe, this time things would be different.

The call started. I joined in. And after six long years, I saw her face again. I couldn’t control my emotions. I turned off my camera, my eyes welling up with tears. I thought I had moved on, that I was fine, but seeing her again made everything rush back. Why was I feeling like this? Why couldn’t I just be normal?

I rejoined the call, sitting silently, listening to everyone talk about school memories. They were laughing, reminiscing, completely unaware of how much pain I was in. They had no idea how much I cried after she left in 5th grade. I just sat there, watching her, knowing this was my only chance to see her again.

But here’s the painful truth. She was the same with everyone. The way she spoke to me, the way she laughed with me, the way she interacted—it was no different from how she treated anyone else in that call. All those years, I thought we had something special. But at that moment, I realized: I was just another friend to her. Nothing more.

And then, everything made sense. The dry replies. The lack of effort. The fact that she never once called me. My mind replayed every conversation, every moment, and suddenly, I saw everything for what it truly was.

Even when she asked me to join her college at SRMIST, I knew I couldn’t do it. If I went, I’d be trapped in this cycle all over again. I’d fall even deeper for her, only to end up hurt again. So, I made an excuse and decided not to go. And as expected, she didn’t even care. She didn’t ask me twice. Not even as a formality. That silence told me everything I needed to know.

So, I made a decision. I stopped forcing conversations. I stopped trying to make her care.

A whole year has passed. I’ve done stupid things just to see if she’d react, if she’d notice me. I even asked her to call me once. But of course, she never did.

So, let’s see. I’ll wait. If she ever calls, I’ll pick up. If not, then maybe this is just how it was always meant to be.

All these days, I kept thinking about her, about us, about a future that only existed in my head.

Maybe I’m an idiot. I want to talk to her, but at the same time, I don’t.

I love her like she’s the only reason I’m alive.

But she never even cared.