We weren't anything. Not then. Not really. Just two people crossing the same spaces, breathing the same air, skimming the edges of the same world without touching it together. We weren't even friends.
There were days I'd catch her across a hallway, or in the middle of a scattered crowd. She'd be laughing with someone, or looking down at her phone, or just existing like the sun forgot to hide from her. And maybe she noticed me too — I like to think she did — because sometimes our eyes would lock for a fraction longer than usual. Not long enough to matter, but never short enough to forget.
I remember the first time I waved. It wasn't much. Just a half-raise of my hand, a nervous impulse that slipped past my thoughts. She waved back, casually, like it was nothing. I didn't want to make it mean to much to me too, Just a casual action that could be reciprocated to anyone.
After that, We began to miraculously see each other more often, the wave became a thing. Not always. Just enough to keep the question alive.
We stayed like that for a while. Two distant glances. Two quiet rhythms that never quite synced. I didn't like her, not in the way that counts. Not then. I didn't even think about her like that. Or maybe I did, but not on purpose.
I was a busy guy, I liked to believe I was, in reality, I was just a single, heartbroken and sad dude keeping a very straight face that tells people to back off whenever they saw me, I didn't like the interactions, the small talks, the smiles, yeah, An introvert, but an angry one who hated everything else, that's the word.
Since we started seeing more often, i imagined we might have a conversation one day, and we did, on a dark night, just talks about school drama, and once again, I refused to think about it too much. Till I got a text, The name, the profile, gut feelings, I knew it was her, I was pissed a bit, last time my number was passed around, it landed in the Folio of a psycho girl, hated my contact being passed around since then.
However, she seemed chill, I mean, first impression matters right, It was unexpected though, I didn't know what to make of it. My first instinct was to brush it off, people asked for contacts all the time. But this was different, the silence and untouchable distance we had was now broken.
Our first conversation was light. Nothing special. Just talk. The kind that fills space without pressure. And yet, I kept going back to the chat. Rereading replies. Smiling at the flow. She was sharp, talkative, with that playful energy that wraps around your calm and makes it move.
We became friends. Just friends. No undertones, Just the sweet kind of comfort that slips in when you're not even trying to find it.
But sometimes, in those quiet late-night conversations, in the way she lingered before saying goodbye, or how she laughed at things that weren't even that funny, sometimes, I wondered.
And then I stopped wondering. Because I wasn't supposed to. We were just two people who used to wave.
And that was supposed to be enough.