Dream - Part 3

 

Distance

Distance never arrives with noise.

It begins quietly — like a chair that is slowly moved away from the table.

One day, Arjun did not call back.
The next day, he replied late.
Then shorter.
Then not at all.

It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t a fight.
It was something colder.

Enough.

Enough of unrealistic stories.
Enough of ghosts and imaginary tragedies.
Enough of playful drama when life ahead demanded seriousness.

Arjun had responsibilities. A career to grow. A family that expected stability. A future that required discipline. Somewhere along the way, Ananya’s laughter began to feel… exhausting.

He didn’t announce his withdrawal.
He simply reduced himself from her life.

Ananya noticed.

Of course she noticed.

A girl who could sense his thoughts before his calls — how could she not sense his silence?

At first, she told herself he was busy.

“Officer saar has big responsibilities,” she would whisper sarcastically to her own reflection.

But days stretched into weeks.
Weeks felt heavier than months.

Somewhere deep inside, she had always known this day would come. She had loved him with awareness — knowing it was incomplete, knowing she was only a chapter in his passing time.

Yet knowing does not make pain smaller.

She waited.

She waited through unanswered messages.
Waited through calls that rang and died.
Waited through nights when her phone screen remained dark.

Her playful happiness — once bright and unstoppable — began shrinking. The distance did not grow slowly. It grew exponentially, like a silent disease spreading inside her heart.

And one night, she broke.

No drama.
No ghost voice.

Just honesty.

She mailed him.

“Arjun,
I was not joking.
I am in love with you.
I have been for a long time.”

She called him after sending it. No answer.

She texted again.

“This is not a playful act. Please believe me.”

But to him, it was just another one of her dramatic stories. Another exaggerated emotion. Another performance.

He ignored it.

Ignored her confession.
Ignored her vulnerability.
Ignored the first time she had ever spoken without hiding behind laughter.

And life moved forward for him.

His marriage was fixed.

The news reached her not from him, but from someone else. Casual. Normal. As if announcing the weather.

“He is getting married.”

She smiled when she heard it.

“Oh… good,” she said calmly.

That night she did not sleep.

He got married.
A new chapter began for him.
A permanent full stop for her.

The one-sided, hidden love — the one she carried playfully for years — almost killed her. Not physically. But something inside her stopped breathing.

She had known this could happen.
She had prepared herself mentally for this day.
But preparation does not cancel heartbreak.

She acted strong in front of the world.
Went to work.
Spoke normally.
Laughed even.

But alone, she collapsed into silence.

They stopped talking completely.

No calls.
No messages.
No ghosts.

Days passed.
Years passed.

Arjun built his life — work, family, responsibilities.

Ananya built something else.

A world inside her dreams.

In that world, he still laughed at her jokes.
Still called her “Bhooth.”
Still answered her calls.

Reality moved forward.

But her heart stayed where it had always been —
standing at the edge of an incomplete love,
waiting for a voice that would never return.