A Dream?

So this is a story from back in my childhood, i still haven't remembered if it was a dream or not, well that explains the title now haha

[ Disclaimer ] I know these story might be not an story you enjoy listening but it's not a white labeled story so its ofc not as expected like every other story

A regular day in Winter, probably i'm 17 back then, just a regular high-schooler with no typical expertise, just had some interest in reading books and writting. Not a type of guy to be in an crowd, I hated Crowd since Childhood. I will prioritize being alone in the room all by myself rather than being in an crowdy place like bars and concerts, Although these type of shit is out of trend now but i don't care, The Peace is the greatest enjoyment for me. Although I wasn't a loner, I had friends, i enjoyed with them too. I had a ambition or interest to travel across the world.

I often saw a faceless girl in my dream, never really seen her face inspite how hard a try but so do i remember she was a fairy, like the spring comes after the dry winter, her presence felt like that, like the only essence you can ever acquire from the fabric of beauty. even in the grayscale, her presence is the only thing that can't be faded, humble enough to say it's too good to be true and cruel enough to see her go as the dream ends.

I always searched a person like her but never really found her, at some point, I believed she only exists in fiction or like in the books, so i stopped finding her and being the way i was, time passed, I went to UK for my higher education

...one day, when I was in the library, flipping through some old books on a rainy afternoon, I felt a presence—familiar, yet unexplainable. I looked up, and there she was. Not exactly like in my dreams, but close enough to make my heart stutter. Her hair fell in soft waves, her movements graceful but unassuming. And though her face wasn't the blurry enigma from my dreams, it held the same inexplicable pull, like a melody I'd always known but could never name.

She was searching for a book. I think it was something on philosophy or art—I can't remember anymore. What I do remember is the way she looked at me when I offered to help her. Her smile was soft but distant, as if her thoughts were somewhere far away. We talked briefly, our conversation as light as the rain outside, but in that moment, I felt something I hadn't felt in years—a quiet kind of hope.

We started meeting often, first by chance and then by choice. She wasn't exactly like the girl from my dreams—she was real, and that meant she had her own complexities, her own scars. But she had the same aura, the same warmth that felt like spring breaking through a long winter. For a while, life felt like those fleeting moments in a dream where everything seems perfect, even though you know it can't last.

We went on dates and little did i knew i was in love, a feeling that comes once in a lifetime, I guess she was in love with me too, she used to make cakes, cookies for me, she sometimes visited my home as i live alone in Uk, she took care of me like someone never did, Her Presence often felt like a spirit of healing, I was not that type of guy who got that much care in my life, Her care maked me feel,

DO I Really Deserve This?

She always laughed in my lame jokes, humbled me, and Be a only partner you can ever ask for in life, We had a bond that was never meant to be broken. Time passed our love started to grow stronger, almost felt like an addiction. We both knew the time is coming close as our semesters was coming to an end, Its been a couple of days since she was behaving off, no matter how much i asked her what happened, she will always be numb and sad. The other day, she came to me in the library and asked me if she can come to my home today, her mood was off but i didn't know why, she came to my home in the evening hugged me hard and started crying out loud, seeing her in this situation felt like a bullet. she told me how much she loved her and didn't stop crying.

We talked the whole night and even celebrated our anniversary with a cake, i maked for her, she was really happy with the little effort i made. I slept early in the morning and when i woke up i didn't saw her so i thought she was gone to her home, i tryed to call her but she didn't picked up, I even went to Versity but didn't find her, a lot of days passed but she didn't came to University or contacted me.

I never truly knew why she drifted away. Maybe it was my own fear of holding on too tightly, or maybe it was something beyond either of our control. One day, she just stopped showing up. No calls, no notes, just an empty space where she used to be. I tried to find her—searched everywhere, retraced every step—but it was as if she had been a figment of my imagination all along.

Years later, I heard through a mutual communication that she had moved back to her hometown. She got married, I think. Had a life that didn't include me. I couldn't bring myself to ask for more details. It felt like prying into something I wasn't meant to touch anymore.

Even now, I sometimes think about her—not in a way that hurts, but in a way that lingers. The girl from my dreams and the girl I met—they've blurred together over time, as if they were always meant to be the same. I don't search for her anymore, not in the world, not in my dreams. I've come to accept that some people are only meant to pass through our lives, to leave a mark and then disappear, like a song that fades before the last note.

The memory of her doesn't ache the way it used to. It's quieter now, like the way winter air feels at night—cold, but somehow peaceful. I don't think I'll ever forget her, but I've stopped wishing for things to have been different. Some stories don't need an ending; they just stay with you, unfinished, as if to remind you that not everything is meant to be whole.

And maybe that's okay.