Page 134 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

Gave him space he didn’t ask for or silence he didn’t notice.

And when his reply finally came during lunch, it was a casual, ‘hey,’ like I hadn’t gone through paralyzing episodes of overthinking.

But I replied just the same. Easy. Unbothered. Cool.

Like I hadn’t felt anything at all.

Later that night, he was beside me again.

Close…

Familiar…

Calm…

Victor lay on his back, one arm resting behind his head, the other draped loosely across his stomach. The room was dim, lit only by the soft spill of city light flickering through the curtains.

I lay next to him, turned slightly in his direction, watching him—not in a way that needed to be seen. Just quietly.

I didn’t realize it at first, but I was actually trying to memorize something I wasn’t sure I’d get to keep.

He looked peaceful. Unbothered. Like none of this carried weight for him the way it did for me.

At some point, his breathing evened out.

And yet I stayed awake.

Of course I did.

Because the silence always got louder when there was nothing left to distract me.

No laughter. No movement. No version of us I could hide behind. Just me and everything I had been choosing not to think about.

I shifted slightly, my eyes tracing the outline of him in the dark.

The same face.

The same presence.

The same person I had spent months trying to forget, now here, within reach, like he had never left at all.

And maybe that was it—the part that didn’t sit right.

Because it felt like we skipped something. Like we went from ending… back to middle… without ever understanding why it ended in the first place.

No apologies.

No explanations.

No answers.

Just us… again.

It was supposed to be enough, but it didn’t feel like enough.

I swallowed, the thought sitting heavier now—quieter, but hard to ignore.

I was happy.