The campus was buzzing with students talking about the new canteen. Word had it that the food there was better than anywhere else on campus. Harsh, Maddy, and a few other friends invited me to join them for lunch, and I couldn't resist the temptation to check it out.
We all walked over, talking and laughing along the way. I had barely stepped inside when I realized the canteen looked like the kind of place where students could easily lose track of time. It had a cozy atmosphere, with string lights overhead and walls decorated with colorful posters of vintage movies.
Everyone was excited to try the food, and I was no exception. But as usual, when it came time to order, I couldn't bring myself to choose anything too adventurous. I had a tendency to stick with what I knew, and my safe option was always noodles.
Maddy, on the other hand, went all out. He ordered a big plate of noodles, just as I was about to place my order. I hesitated, but Harsh nudged me and said, "Go on, try something new. You never know, it might surprise you."
But in the end, I went with my old standby—just a simple sandwich.
After we had settled into a corner booth, I couldn't help but glance at Maddy as he devoured his noodles. He had this carefree way of eating, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. The way he laughed, the way he spoke to everyone around him—it felt like home.
I finished my sandwich rather quickly. It was good, but there was something in the way Maddy was enjoying his noodles that made me wish I had been more adventurous.
And just as I was about to say something, Maddy slid his plate toward me.
"Want to try some?" he asked, his grin playful, as if he could read my mind.
I smiled back, reaching for the chopsticks. "You always know when I'm eyeing your food."
"Well, I don't mind sharing. You know that."
His gesture made my heart flutter, a simple, sweet moment. But at the same time, a knot formed in my stomach. I couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right between us.
I was happy in that moment, but also confused. Every day felt like a mix of joy and uncertainty. There were these sweet little moments—like when he shared his noodles with me, when his eyes softened in a way that spoke volumes—but then, there were his words.
Earlier that morning, Maddy had said something that weighed heavily on my mind. As we were walking to the canteen, I had tried to ask him about where we stood. I couldn't hold back any longer.
"Maddy," I started, my voice a little shaky. "What are we doing? I don't understand. You're always so close, always so kind, but then you tell me not to hope for anything. What am I supposed to think?"
He had looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Diya," he said softly, "I care about you. More than you'll ever know. But I'm still not stable. I don't know when I'll be. I can't ask you to wait around for me."
I felt a lump form in my throat. I had never asked him to wait, but the way he said it made it feel like he was pushing me away.
"Then what do you want me to do?" I asked, the words coming out faster than I intended.
"You should move on if you find someone else," he said, his voice low. "I can't ask you to keep waiting for something that might never happen. Don't give up on your life because of me."
That's when it hit me—he was introducing me as a friend. Just a friend.
I had always thought that there was something more between us. The way his eyes softened when he looked at me, the way he shared his food, the way his voice always carried that touch of concern when we talked. But now, it was as if those things didn't matter. Words. Actions. They didn't line up.
I wasn't sure what to believe anymore.
As I sat there at the canteen, chewing on the noodles Maddy had shared with me, I couldn't stop thinking about those words. Was he saying this because he truly didn't think we had a future? Or was it just his way of protecting himself from getting too attached?
Maddy seemed so carefree on the outside, but I knew he had a lot of unresolved emotions inside. His past, his fears, the uncertainty of where he was going in life—he was carrying more than he let on. But that didn't make it easier. It didn't make it easier to accept that the boy who held me close just days ago was now pushing me away with his words.
"Are you okay?" Harsh asked, noticing that I was a little quieter than usual.
I forced a smile. "Yeah, just thinking."
And I was thinking. Thinking about the confusing mix of emotions I was feeling. What if I waited? What if I kept holding on to this small thread of hope? Would it be worth it, or would I be left in the same place, waiting for something that was never going to come?
As Maddy laughed with the others, I tried to focus on the present, but my heart couldn't ignore the ache in my chest. There was no certainty anymore. No promises. Just the feeling that something precious was slipping away, bit by bit.