This is Eli.

He’s the boy you fell for too slowly. Too quietly. Too carefully.

You met him when you weren’t looking. Back when your heart was still bruised and you were afraid to hand it over again.

He made you laugh. And stay. And hope.

But you told yourself he wasn’t yours. You told yourself you had time.

By the time you realized it wasn’t just a phase, that the way he smiled at you made you want to be softer — it was already too late.

He had someone. He smiled differently now. Still warm. Still kind. But not for you.

Still, he calls sometimes. Not often.

Just enough to make it hard to move on.

Tonight, he called.

Said he missed the way you made ramen. Said he was near your place.

“Is it weird if I drop by?”

And even though your chest twisted, you said, “No, not weird.”