The one I couldn't forget

I met Ayaan when I was seventeen. He was sitting alone on the school bench during lunch, reading a book no one cared about. He wore a black hoodie, headphones around his neck, and had a calm, quiet smile that never left his face.

Nobody really talked to him. He was that kind of boy — always distant, always somewhere else. But I was curious. One day, I sat beside him and asked, “What are you reading?”

He looked at me, a little surprised, and replied, “It’s a story about a boy who travels the world to find what he already has.”

I laughed. “That sounds confusing.”

He smiled. “Sometimes, life is confusing too.”

That was the start of something beautiful.



We became friends. Slowly, but surely. Ayaan wasn’t like the other boys. He never made fun of people. He didn’t talk loudly or show off. He listened. Really listened. And when he spoke, his words felt like they came from a deeper place.

I started sharing things with him I never told anyone. About my dreams, my fears, and the songs I loved. He told me about the stars, his favorite writers, and how he believed people meet for a reason.

He always said, “Everything happens when it’s meant to.”



A year passed. Then another. By the time we finished school, we were inseparable. Everyone said we looked good together, but we never said anything about love. It was there, unspoken, floating between our words and smiles.

Then came college.

We went to different cities. I cried the night before he left. He held my hand and said, “We’ll meet again. This isn’t the end. Just a pause.”

We texted every day at first. Then once a week. Then… silence.



I don’t know what happened. Life happened, maybe. New people, new places, new dreams. I sent him a message once: “Do you still remember me?”

He never replied.

I waited.

One month.
Two months.
A year.

Still, nothing.

It broke me in ways I didn’t understand. How could someone who knew me so well forget me so easily?

But life moves on. And so did I.


Five years passed.

I graduated. Got a job. Made new friends. Smiled in photos. Laughed at jokes.

But at night, when everything was quiet, I thought of him.
Every bridge I crossed.
Every song I heard.
Every time it rained.

He was there.

Like a ghost I never wanted to forget.


Then one day, out of nowhere, I got a letter. A real letter, not a message. Just an envelope with my name on it. I opened it with shaking hands.

It was from Ayaan.


> Dear Zara,

I don’t know if this will reach you. I don’t even know if you still live at this address. But I had to try.

I’m sorry. For the silence. For disappearing. For making you feel forgotten. You were never forgotten.

Life got hard. I lost someone in my family. I couldn’t talk about it, not even to you. I didn’t know how. So I shut the world out. Including you.

That was my biggest mistake.

I came back to our old school last week. Sat on the same bench. I remembered your laughter. Your questions. Your dreams. You’re the one person I still carry in my heart.

I don’t expect anything. I just hope… maybe we could meet again. Even just for a walk. Like old times.

If you ever feel the same, I’ll be at the bridge — the one near the lake — this Sunday at 5 PM.

If you don’t come, I’ll understand. But I’ll still wait.

Yours, always,
— Ayaan



I read the letter a hundred times. My heart felt heavy and light at the same time.

Sunday came. I stood in front of my mirror for an hour. Should I go? Would he really be there? Or was it just another goodbye?

I took a deep breath and left.


The sun was setting when I reached the bridge.

The same colors painted the sky — orange, pink, gold.

I walked slowly, my hands shaking.

And there he was.

Leaning against the railing. Looking at the water. Just like before.

He turned.

His eyes met mine.

And suddenly, nothing had changed.



We didn’t speak at first. Just stood there, the silence saying more than words ever could.

Then he whispered, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

I smiled, my eyes full. “I didn’t think you’d wait.”

He pulled something from his pocket — an old photo of us sitting on that school bench. “I carry this everywhere.”

Tears ran down my cheeks.

“I never forgot you,” I said.

“I never stopped loving you,” he replied.


We talked for hours. About everything. About nothing. We laughed. We cried. We remembered.

That night, as the stars appeared one by one, I realized something:

Some people come into your life for a moment.

Some stay for a season.

But a few — just a few — are meant to stay forever.

Even if they leave, even if time passes, their place in your heart never fades.

They are the ones you can never forget.