Ep 1

I didn’t fall in love all at once.

It happened in fragments.

In the way you remembered how I take my tea, even though I never told you.

In the way you waited for me after work, pretending you just “happened to be around.”

In the way your voice softened only when you spoke to me.

That’s how it started.

Not with a confession.

Not with a promise.

Just… presence.

You never said you loved me.

And I never asked.

Because somewhere deep inside, I already knew the answer.

But I stayed.

God, I stayed.

We weren’t anything official. No labels, no boundaries.

Just late-night conversations, shared silences, and a strange comfort that felt too real to be temporary.

You would lean on my shoulder sometimes, like the world was too heavy for you.

And I… I let you.

I let you rest.

I let you stay.

I let you become home.

“Don’t get too attached,” you once said, laughing like it was a joke.

I laughed too.

Because what else was I supposed to do?

Admit that I already was?

I built a life around moments you probably won’t even remember.

Your favorite coffee place became mine.

Your music filled my playlists.

Your habits quietly rewrote my routines.

You were everywhere.

And I didn’t notice when I disappeared.

There were days I almost asked you—

What are we?

Do I matter?

Am I just passing time for you?

But every time, you’d look at me with that soft, almost-caring gaze…

and I’d swallow the questions.

Because I was afraid of the answer.

And then one evening, just like that—

You said it.

Not dramatically. Not cruelly. Just… calmly.

“I think you should stop investing in me.”

I blinked.

“What?”

You sighed, not even looking at me.

“I’m not someone you should build anything around. I’m… temporary. I always was.”

Temporary.

Such a small word.

Such a brutal truth.

“I told you from the beginning,” you continued, almost gently.

“I’m not meant to stay. You deserve something stable… something real.”

I wanted to laugh.

Because this—whatever we had—

was the realest thing I’d ever felt.

But to you… it was just time passing.

“You’re a bad investment for me?” I asked quietly.

You shook your head.

“No. I’m a bad investment for you.”

That hurt more.

Because it meant you knew.

You knew what I felt.

You knew what I was building.

And you still let me.

“Then why did you stay?” I whispered.

You finally looked at me.

And for the first time, there was no softness in your eyes.

“Because it was easy.”

Easy.

I was easy.

Loving me was easy.

Leaving me was easier.

You walked away that day like you were doing me a favor.

Like breaking me gently would hurt less.

Like calling yourself a “bad investment” would somehow protect me from the loss.

But here’s the truth you’ll never know:

I would’ve chosen you anyway.

Even knowing you’d leave.

Even knowing I was temporary to you.

I would’ve still built that home—

brick by brick, moment by moment—

just to feel you stay a little longer.

Now you’re gone.

And everything you touched still feels like you.

The silence is louder.

The spaces are colder.

And I’m left standing in a home

built for someone

who never planned to live in it.

You called yourself a bad investment.

But you were wrong.

Because I didn’t lose anything by loving you.

I only lost you.

And maybe… that was always the risk.

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