A story that deserved to be told
The first day of college, I saw her. That was it. I didn't need time, I didn't need to know her name yet — something in me just decided, right there in that moment, that I loved her. Really, really loved her. Her name was Aleesha.
I never told anyone. Not a single friend. I, Irfaan, just kept it inside, held it close like something I wasn't ready to share with the world.
My friends used to tease me with Aleesha's name sometimes. Throwing it around, laughing, trying to get a reaction out of me. What they didn't know was that they had no idea how right they were. They thought it was a joke. For me it was everything.
Then Aleesha fell for someone else.
I'm grateful I didn't feel anger about it. I really am. But what I did feel was this quiet, aching sense of having missed out. Like something that could have been mine, slipped past before I ever had a chance.
And then came the canteen. Every single day, I would see them there — Aleesha and him, together. Happy. And I would sit with that feeling quietly, not making a scene, not telling a soul. Just heartbroken in the most ordinary, invisible way. The kind of heartbreak nobody around you even notices.
That's what it was. Every day. Me, Irfaan, loving Aleesha in silence, watching from a distance, and carrying it all completely alone.
A confession in sound 🎵