🏙️ “Long-Distance Love, Close-Distance Pain” - Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2: The Silence That Screams

"Some distances aren’t measured in miles… but in unread messages, missed calls, and the ache of being forgotten."

Two weeks had passed since Aditya’s flight. Then two months. Then six.

And every passing day felt like a thin paper cut—small, invisible, but relentless.

At first, the calls were frequent.
Midnight video calls with sleepy smiles.
Random selfies with captions like “Missing your chai more than London’s coffee.”
Texts every few hours.
Check-ins.
Laughter.
Hope.

But slowly, the spaces between their conversations started to stretch.
One missed call became two.
A reply came after five hours. Then twelve. Then… not at all.

Aditi stared at her phone, thumb hovering over his name.

“Online 2 minutes ago.”

Yet… no message.

Her throat tightened.

She opened their old chat. Scrolled past voice notes, the “I love you more” arguments, the song links, the inside jokes.

And then—she typed:

"Hey, it’s been two days. Hope everything’s okay."

Sent.

Delivered.

But never seen.

Days passed.

Her phone pinged finally.
She grabbed it.

Aditya: “Sorry, been crazy busy. Will call soon.”

No heart. No emoji. No warmth.

Just words—like an office memo.

She replied with a simple:

“Okay.”

And didn’t wait this time.

At night, the silence grew louder. Louder than the honks outside, louder than the pressure from her internship deadlines, louder than the ache in her throat.

She began checking time zones obsessively.
Tried excusing his absence.
“Maybe he’s in class.”
“Maybe he fell asleep.”
“Maybe he’s overwhelmed.”

But somewhere deep down, the “maybe” was turning into a “most probably.”

Three weeks later.
Her birthday.

Friends surprised her with cake and candles. There were photos, cheers, noise.

But her eyes kept glancing at her phone screen.

No message. No call. Nothing.

And then—at 11:59 PM—a notification.

Aditya: “Sorry. Slept off. Happy birthday.”

Just that.
No call.
No effort.

No love.

That night, Aditi didn’t cry.
She just stared at the ceiling.

Because heartbreak isn’t always loud or dramatic.
Sometimes, it’s a soft disconnection—like watching someone slowly walk away from you in a fog, without ever looking back.

“We never broke up, you know?” she told her best friend Rhea the next day. “He just… faded.”

“And you?”

Aditi smiled, a hollow curve. “I kept standing in the same place, hoping he’d return.”

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