Okay so let me take you back to summer.
You know those summers?
The ones where everything tastes like mango and salt, the sun doesn’t set until 9pm, and you randomly meet someone who just clicks.
That was him.
We met at a little beach spot. Nothing fancy.
He made me laugh until my stomach hurt. We went for late night ice cream, walked along the pier, talked about stupid stuff like favorite cartoons and whether aliens exist.
He remembered my coffee order. He held my hand like he meant it.
For a couple weeks, I actually thought:
Damn. Maybe I found him. Maybe I found the greatest guy to ever exist.
Yeah.
I was that girl.
Then school started.
First day. New semester.
I walk into class and there he is.
Same messy hair. Same smile he gave me when he said goodnight.
My heart did that stupid jump.
You know the one. Like a little kid on a trampoline.
I started thinking all that cheesy nonsense – fate, timing, universe brought us back together, the whole cringe movie script.
I literally planned how I’d walk up to him after class. Casual. Cool.
“Hey, stranger. Small world, right?”
Class ends.
I walk toward him, smiling.
And then she shows up.
His wife.
Daughter of the principal.
He saw me.
For half a second, I saw something in his eyes – like a flicker of the guy from summer.
Then it was gone.
He just… looked away.
Fake confusion. Like he didn’t know me at all.
She grabbed his arm. He followed her like a little trained dog.
Days passed. Weeks.
Every morning, he’d sit there and steal glances at me.
I could feel it.
Like he wanted to say something. Like deep down, the funny, wild, electric guy from the beach was still in there somewhere.
But he never said a word.
Not one.
And me?
I just watched him shrink, class after class.
That loud, bright, ridiculous summer boy?
Gone.
Replaced by someone quiet. Someone small.
A guy chained to a woman he clearly doesn’t love – but who probably pays his bills, or protects his future, or holds something over his head.
Honestly?
I don’t even feel sad anymore.
I’m just curious.
How do you go from fire to doormat that fast?
· "Story from a Facebook follower (told in my style)."
