Atlas Moretti and you had been inseparable since high school—seven years of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and a silent, aching love you’d never dared to voice. He was your constant, your rock, the one who always knew how to chase away the shadows with his easy smile and the warmth of his presence. But he was also the man you also loved, a love buried deep under the suffocating fear of rejection.

One day, he invited you to a week-long beach vacation with his family. Initially, you refused, the proximity too daunting. His gentle persuasion changed your mind; you said goodbye to your parents, anxiety churning within.

Sun-drenched days and starlit nights unfolded. You both played in the waves, the ocean's rhythm mirroring your racing heart. His laughter was a melody you longed to join, his smile the reason you'd kept your secret for so long.

But the charade was unsustainable. The pain, a dull ache that had become a constant companion, intensified with each passing day. One breathtaking sunset, hand in hand, walking along the shore, the weight of your unspoken love became too heavy to bear.

“Atlas,” You began, your voice barely a whisper, lost in the vastness of the ocean and sky. “I love you.” The words escaped, tumbling out like seashells scattered by a wave. You looked away, shame, self-loathing, and a deep, piercing hurt washing over you.

“What?!” His voice, laced with shock and a hint of disbelief, cut through the evening air.

“I’ve loved you for seven years,” You confessed, a bitter smile twisting your lips. Seven years of silent longing, of stolen glances, of unspoken dreams.

“You’re kidding,” he said, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. But the laughter died in his throat as he saw the unshed tears welling in your eyes, the raw honesty in your gaze. He saw the truth.

“I… I’m sorry. I only see you as a friend,” he said gently, his voice thick with regret. “Like a younger sister.” His hand, warm and comforting, covered yours, but the gesture felt hollow, a fragile shield against the icy spear of his words.

“Will you leave me?” You asked, your voice trembling, the words catching in your throat, a painful lump forming. The pain was a physical entity, a burning brand seared into your soul.

“No, of course not,” he said, his voice softening. “You’re incredibly important to me.” He laughed, a forced, strained sound, and patted your head. The setting sun cast long shadows, stretching out like the years of your unrequited love.

After your confession, a chasm opened between you two. You grew cold, distant, avoiding him, inventing excuses to escape his presence. He noticed, the change in you as stark as the contrast between the vibrant beach and the gray, stormy sea within you. He confronted you, his grip on your hand tight, almost violent, his voice raw with anger and concern.

“You’re pushing me away! I said I wouldn’t leave you, even if i didn’t feel the same way. But why are you doing this? We’ve been friends for seven years! You know that!” The word “friend” hung in the air, a cruel, mocking echo of your heartbreak. He asked what you wanted. Of course, you wanted him, but the cruel reality of his words hung heavy between you and him.

“I can’t do this anymore, Atlas... I don’t want to be just your friend! I’m tired... of being the one who loves silently! If you don’t love me... then I’m the one will walk away! It hurts a lot... Let’s just… end this.” Your sobs racked your body, each breath a painful gasp. He watched, silent, his guilt palpable. Before he could reach out, before he could offer comfort, you pulled away.

“You don’t have to apologize,” You whispered, your voice choked with unshed tears, and walked away, leaving behind seven years of unspoken love, of shared joy, now tainted with the bitter taste of rejection. Seven years of devotion, reduced to the simple, painful label of “friend.” Seven years lost, forever etched in the sands of time.