What Could've Been

Written by: Kaidon (25-I1)

Designed by: Rachel (26-U1)

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I don’t remember when everything became dull.

Not sad. Not empty. Just… flat.

Every day followed the same rhythm: classes, gym, late nights, conversations that sounded important in the moment but disappeared by morning. People laughed constantly. About stress, about exhaustion, about how none of us knew what we were doing with our lives. And I laughed too, because that’s what everyone did.

But underneath it, everything felt muted.

Like living in grayscale and not even realising colour existed.

Then she showed up.

It wasn’t dramatic. No life-changing moment. Just a normal conversation that stayed with me longer than it should’ve.

She talked like everything mattered. Especially the small things. Why old songs sounded better late at night. Why people became more honest when they were tired. Why some conversations stayed in your head for days after they ended.

She noticed things too.

The fact that I always skipped meals when I was stressed. The way I went quiet whenever something bothered me. How I joked more whenever I was uncomfortable.

Nobody had ever paid attention to me that carefully before.

At first, I didn’t get why she stayed on calls longer than she needed to. Why she remembered things I said casually and brought them up days later. Why being around her felt… lighter.

It was almost uncomfortable.

Because suddenly, things weren’t so dull anymore.

Food tasted better. Songs hit harder. Nights felt shorter. Even silence felt full instead of empty. She didn’t change my life in some grand, cinematic way — she just made everything sharper, clearer. Real.

We could spend hours on call barely talking, both pretending to study while sending each other random messages every few minutes.

U still alive?

Unfortunately.

One day ur gonna blame me for your grades. Ur defo failing 😂

What? My grades aren’t even that bad.😡

Yea…. sureeeee

Fr tho:/

That’s exactly what someone with bad grades would say😂😂😂

Hey, that’s not very nice😢…

Prob worth it tho😁

And somehow, those became the parts of my day I looked forward to most.

And that scared me more than I wanted to admit.

Because I realised something I hadn’t before: 

If she could make everything feel this alive, then losing her would mean going back.

So, I held back.

Not enough for her to leave immediately. Just enough so it wouldn’t hurt as much if she did.

Every serious moment became a joke halfway through. Every vulnerable conversation got brushed aside before it could fully land. I acted detached enough to pretend I wasn’t already too deep in this. Acted like I could take it or leave it — even when I couldn’t.

She noticed. Of course she did.

Why do you always act like you care less than you do? 

I stared at the message longer than I should’ve.

Then typed:

wdym:/

A few seconds later: 

See? Ur doing it now.

I could’ve told her then.

That she was the first person who made everything feel alive again. That I thought about her more than I admitted. That somewhere along the way…, she stopped feeling temporary.

But wanting someone that much felt dangerous.

Because suddenly, there was something I couldn’t afford to lose.

So instead, I replied: 

I do care. Just… not that deep.

The typing bubble appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared again.

Then finally:

Oh

That was the first crack.

Things didn’t fall apart all at once. They loosened first. Calls became shorter. Replies took longer. Conversations that used to flow felt forced and careful, like we were both avoiding something sitting quietly between us. Not because the feelings weren’t there — but because neither of us knew how to handle them anymore.

She wanted certainty. I kept giving her hesitation. And over time, hesitation feels a lot like rejection.

The last time we talked — like really talked — wasn’t even a fight.

That’s what made it worse. 

No shouting. No dramatic ending. Just two people standing on opposite sides of something neither knew how to fix.

“I can’t keep guessing how you feel,” she said quietly.

I wanted to tell her everything right then. That she mattered more than I let on. That I thought about her more than I admitted. That I was scared of needing someone that much. Of wanting someone more than anything.

But the words stayed where they always did.

Somewhere inside me.

Because saying things out loud makes them real.

And real things can be lost.

So instead, I said nothing that mattered.

And that was the moment I lost her.

—————————————————————————————————————

After she left, life didn’t collapse. 

That would’ve been easier.

Instead, everything just felt… faded.

Music didn’t hit the same. Conversations felt hollow again. Nights stretched longer, but emptier. It wasn’t that things were worse than before — it was just that I now knew how better felt like.

And I couldn’t go back to not knowing.

That was the real loss.

Not just her. 

But the version of myself that I was when with her.

—————————————————————————————————————

When we saw each other again, it wasn’t planned. Just one of those random meetings life throws at you.

She looked the same. And yet, not the same at all. Happier, maybe. Or just… settled in a way I wasn’t.

We talked. Nothing heavy. Just catching up, as if we hadn’t once meant everything to each other. 

But there was something underneath it — something neither of us said, and neither quite let go of.

—————————————————————————————————————

They stood there longer than either expected. The conversation was over. But neither was willing to leave first. Nothing dramatic — just quiet, the same quiet that had always defined them. He noticed the way she still looked at him — like she hadn’t quite let go, even if she was trying to. For a second, he almost said it —

stay

come back 

I was wrong

— but the words sat heavy and unmoving. So he nodded, like he understood something he didn’t, and stepped back. She waited, just a moment too long. One last chance, given without words. When he didn’t, she smiled softly, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes, and turned away. He watched her go, telling himself it was for the best, that she’d be happier like this. It wasn’t until she disappeared into the crowd that it finally settled in—

quiet,

irreversible, 

and far too late.

—————————————————————————————————————

For a long time, it was easier to think of it as them. Like it hadn’t really happened to me.

But the truth is —

we weren’t wrong for each other, just… not ready for each other.

And somehow, that makes it harder to let go.

Maybe in another story. One where we met at the right time, said the things we couldn’t say, stayed when it mattered.

But this isn’t that story.

She didn’t just bring color into my life—

she was the only reason I ever learned I was living in black and white.

And in the end, that's all it ever was —

what could’ve been.