The First Love and Heartbreak

Written By Ayan

Ishu – The Boy Who Found Her First

Before I ever knew her name, Ishu had already made her part of his world.

They met through a YouTube comment section, under a nostalgic anime video.

"Kai was always cooler than Tyson."

A comment from a stranger caught his eye.

He replied. She responded.

That one innocent interaction—about Beyblade—spiraled into something deeper.

From comments to DMs, from memes to midnight conversations, their bond grew stronger.

Shared playlists, anime debates, "bro check this" moments—fun and chaos, all wrapped in a crush.

Then he confessed. (after some weeks)

And to his surprise, she said yes.

For a while, it was sweet. Young love, over the internet. Pure and simple.

But the real world has a habit of ruining fantasies.

One evening, Ishu's father caught him laughing alone in the room. Suspicious, he checked Ishu's phone and read the chats.

Slapped him.

Everything shattered.

The next day, Ishu called me.

"Bhai… Papa ne sab padh liya. (Dad read all convo between him and her)

Mujhe sab kuch khatam karna hoga. (I need to end all)

Tu usse keh dena… breakup." (tell her for breakup)

Then Ishu vanished.

Aahan – The One Who Came After

My story was different.

Growing up, I was surrounded by boys—boys' school, boys' college, boys everywhere.

No childhood crushes. No secret notes. No late-night calls.

Romance wasn't something I had experienced—only heard about in stories or saw in movies.

But after school ended, I stepped into the online world.

That's when I met them—friends, strangers, heartbreak survivors.

And eventually… her.

The Group That Started Everything

Group Name: Chill Vibes

Members: Me, Ishu, Maksuda, Sonu, Diwakar, and others who drifted in and out.

Each person in that group was a different shade of chaos.

Sonu was the calm one—always typing something deep.

Diwakar was bold and practical.

Ishu? A walking meme generator with emotional damage.

And then there was Maksuda.

She was soft-spoken, polite. Not trying to impress anyone.

Her messages were balanced—not dry, not fake.

There was something peaceful about talking to her.

After Ishu's sudden disappearance, I started chatting with her.

From Comfort to Curiosity

At first, it was just friendship.

Late-night chats about school. Random music. Weird dreams.

She didn't send selfies. No voice notes. Not even calls.

But somehow… it still felt good.

Familiar.

Safe.

Until one day, that growing silence in my own life whispered loud enough:

"Maybe you like her."

And so, I told her on August 29, I said it plainly:

"I think I like you. Want to give this a try?"

She replied after a pause:

"… yeah. Let's try."

No butterflies. No magical moment.

Just a quiet beginning.

Around Her World

Through her, I met more people.

Afrin, her genius best friend—blunt, brilliant, and emotionally distant.

Trisha, her cousin. I once asked her: ("Want to be my girlfriend?")

She laughed.

"No thanks. I already have a boyfriend IRL."

And Riya, another cousin.

Sonu had a thing for her.

She never noticed.

They were side characters in our little story.

But Afrin… she unknowingly became a trigger.

The Jealousy Mistake

By now, Maksuda and I were a month into our relationship.

She was sweet, but distant.

Still no pictures. No voice notes.

No calls longer than two minutes.

She once even made her sister talk instead of her.

But I ignored the red flags—until Akash came back into the picture.

Akash. Her "male best friend."

Ironically, someone who used to be my friend too.

He had just gone through a breakup.

And started talking to her.

A lot.

Too much.

I could feel it.

I could sense it in her changing tone, her late replies.

So, in a moment of pride and poor judgment, I tried to mirror that feeling back at her.

I started talking to Afrin.

Not because I liked her.

Not because I wanted her.

But because I wanted Maksuda to feel something.

I knew Afrin was sharp.

She figured it out almost immediately.

"You're using me to make her jealous, aren't you?"

"She'll find out."

She was right.

And she did.

The next day, a ping from Maksuda lit up my screen.

"Why are you talking to Afrin?"

I stayed calm.

"Why are you still talking to Akash?"

"He's just a friend!"

"So is Afrin."

A pause. Then—

"Block her."

I didn't hesitate.

"Blocked. You block Akash too."

She didn't reply for a while.

But eventually…

"Fine. I blocked him."

I believed her.

Until days later, I found out she'd unblocked him again.

That broke something inside me.

It wasn't about control.

It wasn't even about Akash.

It was the fact that I gave up something for her—and she couldn't do the same.

The Breaking Point

Soon after, her exams began.

Her replies grew slower.

Her presence faded.

But I wasn't patient.

I wasn't mature.

I didn't see the pressure she was under.

I only saw silence.

And silence scared me.

"You don't have time anymore.

Let's just break up."

Her reply came fast.

Empty.

"Okay."

No trying.

No questions.

No reason to stay.

And just like that, it was over.

The Patch-Up That Didn't Heal

Two months later, I messaged her again.

I missed her.

Maybe the silence felt louder than it should have.

She replied.

We talked.

Laughed a little.

Agreed to try again.

But this time, she wasn't the same.

She'd changed.

She had boys messaging her.

She had that attitude now.

Confidence. Walls. Distance.

It didn't feel like before.

It felt like walking in someone else's story.

After one month, she messaged again:

"Let's stop this."

No drama.

Just another quiet ending.

Reflection

Looking back now, I don't even blame her.

I wasn't in love.

I was just tired of feeling nothing.

She wasn't the right one.

She was just the first one who said yes.

I tried to make her jealous.

She tried to hold on to her freedom.

In the end, we both failed to meet in the middle.

"She didn't stop me.

Not once.

Maybe that silence was the answer."