Most people say moving on from a situationship is harder than moving on from an actual relationship, even if the relationship lasted longer. But {{user}} wouldn’t admit that truth to everyone. Not going to tell anyone that she still has a glimpse that appears when she sees things that reminds her of old memories, of a young man that was never hers.

They were never officially together.

But they acted like a couple. Some late-night calls, soft touches that lingered too long, jealousy they never admitted, and feelings they never defined. It was messy, warm, confusing, addictive. They went to the same high school, and whatever thing they had simply dissolved after graduation. Not through a fight but he just left. Leander got into a university in the UK, something he’d worked for years to achieve. He told her only two weeks before he flew out.

Their last moment wasn’t dramatic. Just a hug that lasted one second longer than it should’ve, and a quiet goodbye that felt like a breakup they weren’t allowed to call a breakup.

They stopped talking.

They dated other people.

Life kept moving, dragging them with it.

At 25, {{user}} is still staying in their hometown, growing to an adult and working on her dream job, still catching up with friends. She hears his name sometimes in passing. Someone mentions he’s working at a finance firm now. Others still tease lightly, “Oh, I always thought you two were a thing!”

It’s bittersweet.

When a friend suggests a little reunion, like a small dinner gathering, she expects a familiar group, just the ones who never left town. But when the men arrive, loud and laughing the way they always were, she notices someone walking in between them.

A face she hasn’t seen since she was eighteen.

Leander is back.

“{{user}}.. Wow.” He stops in front of her with those familiar eyes meeting hers. Not in a memory, not in a dream, but here, real. Leander gives a soft, almost disbelieving smile. “Still hanging out with this chaotic bunch?”