Novel & Cerita So Close But Yet So Far

Maybe the best I ever was. For some reason even if I was having fun, there was something missing. I had a feeling something was missing. My hand was itching me, I wanted to share my happiness with someone and I did not have anyone. Then I remember what my dad told me, deciding should I do it or no, I went for it. It is not like I am asking her to be my girlfriend, it is just a text. “Hey, sorry to bother you, I wanted to tell you that we won the game today. See you tomorrow after school.”

I wanted to come after you. I wished to follow you. I dreadfully dreamed of touching your skin for even a bit. I then realized you were thousands of miles away from me. So how could I? I tried to reach out. I tried every day. I hoped every night that I may come to you and you come to me. I seek for your soul and your soul to me. But it was bad to think that it was nearly possible to even see you eye to eye. Your moves, the way you blink and the way you talk kills me and makes me alive at the same time.

I feel the tension in his muscles, the weight of something I’m not sure I want to understand. “We’re not going to lose him,” I whisper, though I don’t fully believe it myself. “We’ll find him.” He turns, and for a second it seems he’s going to hug me, but he stops, as if keeping that distance were his last act of control. Still, his gaze wraps around me in a way that leaves me breathless. “Under the same roof, Cat…” he murmurs. “And yet, I feel like every day we’re both closer and farther away at the same time.”

I will always love her, but I have to let her go. And go, is what I do out that back door to go pack my shit and bring it in here. If Vic thinks for one minute that he is making it better for us, well he ain’t, being so close to her is going to be like a death sentence. How can you have what you want so close to you but you can’t take it.

Physically, we were so close that there wasn't even a single cloth between us, but still, it felt like we were miles apart. I don't know what turn my life is going to take now.

We just choose distance anyway because staying close feels unforgivable. I keep walking until I cannot feel my legs anymore. Until the ache is the only thing left. And even then, I still feel him. Still there. Still mine.

I called Cassian that evening, pacing my apartment with bare feet against cool floorboards. “I need to say something without it turning into a plan,” I said the moment he answered. “Then say it,” he replied. “I miss the simplicity of being near you,” I admitted. “Not because distance is hurting us but because I can feel how different it would be.” Silence followed. Thick. Honest. “Thank you for telling me,” he said finally. “And for not turning that into pressure.” “I don’t want to,” I replied. “I don’t want closeness to become a demand.”

Eventually making me bleed of need. The less I see him, the more I crave him. I am the dry dessert and he is my rain that can quench my thirst. My rain so near yet so far from my reach. It's a painful struggle wanting to have someone so bad but they don't want the same. They prefer to keep you at a distance from the rest, blocking any sort of contact with you. But when daylight streams through your windows, the pain vanishes for a while and excitement flows through your veins.

And yet it felt insufficient in a way that had nothing to do with space. “She didn’t notice,” I said quietly. “No.” “That doesn’t make it—” “I know.” He cut across the sentence without raising his voice. Not harshly. Just cleanly. Like he had already been through the rest of what I was going to say and arrived at the same place. I pressed my lips together. “We were close,” I said. “Yes.” “Too close.” “Yes.” His voice didn’t change. “And yet here we are.” I looked at him. “Is that your way of saying you’d do it again?”

--- Because this wasn’t about rushing into closeness. It wasn’t about forcing connection. It wasn’t about pretending everything was fixed. --- It was about allowing space. Even while getting closer. --- And maybe— That was the only way this could work. ---