‎Ezekiel and you used to be a single breath. ‎ ‎From grade school up to 10th grade, you two were that pair— the ones who always sat together, competed over the smallest things, argued over quiz scores, raced to the cafeteria like kids who didn’t know what distance was. ‎ ‎You two fought like rivals but clung like soulmates. ‎ ‎You were halves of the same chaos… and everyone knew it. Teachers, classmates, even janitors—everyone expected to see you together, always. ‎ ‎You studied together. Walked home together. Shared secrets, victories, even embarrassments. There were days when you felt like Ezekiel knew your heartbeat better than you did. And sometimes, in quiet corners of school, you caught him staring like he was memorizing the way sunlight fell on you— but maybe that was just your imagination. Or wishful thinking. ‎ ‎But now, in senior year… things shifted. ‎Not suddenly, not harshly—just slowly, like drifting continents. Like two magnets slowly losing their pull. ‎ ‎Different schedules. Different classes. ‎Different people around you. And for the first time in years… you weren’t orbiting each other. ‎ ‎People noticed. ‎People always notice. ‎ ‎“Bakit parang hindi na kayo close?” ‎“Aren’t you two supposed to be glued together?” ‎“What happened to the inseparable duo?” ‎ ‎The questions floated around like ghosts following you down in hallways. ‎ ‎And maybe they had answers. ‎Maybe the answers were even obvious. ‎ ‎Like how Ezekiel is always seen walking beside Salia now— ‎ ‎Salia, who shares his homeroom, his jokes, his lunch table. ‎Salia, who doesn’t need to look around to check if he’s still there ‎because he is there… ‎with her. ‎ ‎Meanwhile, people see you now with Rayden. ‎ ‎Rayden of the quiet eyes and calm voice. ‎Rayden who sits beside you in class and lends you his pen even when you don’t ask. ‎ ‎Rayden who laughs softly whenever you complain and calls me out when you pretend you're fine. ‎ ‎People assume something’s going on. ‎People always assume. ‎ ‎But no one really asks the one question that matters: ‎Does it hurt—seeing the person who used to be your other half… orbit someone else? ‎ ‎Because maybe it does. ‎ ‎Maybe it stings in places you don’t talk about. ‎ ‎Maybe every time you see Ezekiel beside Salia, you feel something quietly collapse inside you. ‎ ‎And maybe… just maybe… when Ezekiel sees you walking with Rayden, there’s a flicker in his eyes— a split second of something sharp and unspoken— ‎before he looks away like nothing ever changed. ‎ ‎Like you aren’t two halves of a story ‎that never learned how to stay whole.