Prologue
Nee Parichayam
Before the story begins…
I don’t know where this story truly starts.Maybe not with the day we met…but with the moment you quietly became a part of me—without permission, without warning,without asking if I was ready.
Before I write anything else,before I turn memories into scenes and emotions into words,I want to write how I feel right now.Because maybe… this is the most honest version of our story.The one that hasn’t been edited by time,or softened by distance.
Why did God make something as simple as an introduction…feel this complicated?
They say every meeting has a reason.Every person enters your life to teach you something,to stay, or to leave.But what about the ones who do both?Who stay just enough to become a habit…and leave just enough to become a pain?
You already had someone in your life.A place where you belonged.A story that had already begun long before I even knew your name.
And yet… somewhere along the way,between random conversations and stolen moments,between laughter that felt too easy and silences that felt too deep—you found your way into my heart.
Or maybe…I let you in.
You say you love me.In ways that feel real.In ways that I can’t deny.
But not enough to stay.Not enough to choose me.Not enough to leave her.
And that’s where everything breaks…quietly, invisibly,every single day.
I never asked you why.
Not because I didn’t want to know,but because I was afraid of the answer.Afraid that putting it into wordswould make it all real—and once it’s real,it’s harder to pretend it doesn’t hurt.
So instead, I asked myself.Again and again.
“Then why did you fall in love with me?”
Once… I gathered the courage and asked you—why you came into my life,why you fell in love again.And you said…you didn’t know either.
Was I just a pause in your life?A moment of comfort when things felt uncertain?Or was I something real…just not enough?
But every time I thought of asking you more,every time the question tried to go deeper,I stopped.
Because no matter how tangled this is…no matter how wrong it may seem from the outside,the way you are with me feels different.
It feels like warmth after a long, exhausting day.Like the kind of peace that doesn’t ask questions,doesn’t demand explanations,doesn’t care about the world outside that moment.
With you,time feels softer.Slower.Kinder.
Like a moment that doesn’t want to end…even when it knows it has to.
And maybe that’s why I stayed.
I tried to walk away.More times than I can count.
I told myself this isn’t right.That I shouldn’t make my life more complicated.That I deserve something clearer… something certain.Something that doesn’t come with conditions.Something that doesn’t make me question my own worth.
I told myself I should choose peace over confusion,clarity over chaos.
But every time I tried to leave,every time I created distance,every time I convinced myself this is the last time—
we found our way back.
Not forcefully.Not dramatically.
Just… naturally.
Like two people who don’t know how to stay apart,even when they know they should.
And every time we came back,we were closer than before.
That’s what scares me the most.
Not loving you…but how naturally it happened.
How effortlessly you became a part of my everyday life.How your presence started feeling like home—even when I knew I didn’t belong there.
And maybe…how easily I forgot to stop it.
Somewhere between right and wrong,between what I should feel and what I actually feel,I lost control.
And now…I don’t even know if I want it back.
I don’t want to hold you back.I don’t want to be the reason your life gets harder.I don’t want to ask you to choose—because I already know the answer,even if you never say it out loud.
And maybe…I don’t have the courage to hear it either.
So I settle for this.For moments instead of forever.For feelings without a future.For a love that exists…but doesn’t belong anywhere.
If you’re happy where you are…that should be enough for me.
That’s what I tell myself.That’s what I try to believe.
Because love, they say,is about wanting the other person to be happy—even if that happiness doesn’t include you.
But then again…
If it was really enough,if I had truly accepted it,if my heart had learned to be okay with it—
why does it still hurt?
Why does your absence feel louder than your presence?Why do small things remind me of you?Why does every “almost” feel heavier than a goodbye?
Maybe this is what our story is meant to be.
Not a perfect love.Not a forever kind of ending.
But something in between—something unfinished,something that lingers,something that teaches…even when it breaks you a little.
And maybe that’s where this story truly begins.Not with love,not with us,
but with everythingwe couldn’t become.
And maybe the hardest part of all this…is not what we are,but what we pretend not to be.
Because in between everything we say,there are things we never admit.
The way your voice softens when you talk to me.The way you remember the smallest details about my day.The way silence between us never feels empty.
These are not accidents.These are not just moments.
They are feelings…that neither of us had the courage to name.
Sometimes I wonder—if things were different,if we had met at the right time,in the right way,without the weight of everything that already existed…
would we have been simple?
Would we have been easy?
Or would we still be this complicated storythat feels too real to let go,and too wrong to hold on to?
I don’t have answers.
Maybe we were never meant to have them.
Maybe some stories are not written to be understood,but only to be felt.
And maybe…you were never meant to stay in my life,but only to change it.
To show me a version of lovethat is beautiful…but incomplete.
To teach me that sometimes,even when two hearts find each other,life doesn’t always let them stay together.
And that love…no matter how real,is not always enough.
