i ignored my instincts

Dear Annie,

I knew it. Deep down, I felt it—like a faint whisper in the darkness, warning me to tread carefully. But despite the nagging voice of reason echoing in my mind, I foolishly allowed myself to get caught up in his web of charm and charisma.

Like a fool, I ignored my instincts, brushed aside the red flags that flashed in front of me like neon signs, and let myself become attached. I let myself believe, for a moment, in the illusion of connection and companionship.

And now, here I am, left picking up the pieces of yet another shattered illusion.

I went against my better judgment, against the wisdom of keeping my distance, and now I'm paying the price for my naivety. I opened up, let someone in a little too far, only for them to turn away when they saw the real me—the nerd, the freak, the loser that everyone else thinks I am.

Should I really be surprised?

No. Not at all.

It's the same story, played out over and over again in the theater of my life. People get close, they pretend to care, but eventually, they see the cracks, the flaws, and they leave. Every. Single. Time.

But you know what?

It's fine.

I'll retreat, like I always do, back into the quiet safety of my solitude. The one place where I don't have to pretend, where I don't have to measure up to anyone's expectations, where I can nurse my wounds in peace.

Maybe it's better this way—alone, where I can't be hurt again.

- Annie

Leo felt a sharp pang of guilt pierce through him as he carefully unfolded Annie's letter, each word a testament to her vulnerability and pain. He couldn't deny the sinking feeling in his chest as he realized that he was the cause of her distress. They hadn't spoken in nearly two weeks, a silence that weighed heavily on Leo's conscience ever since their last encounter at the smoothie shop.

All he had wanted was to shield her from harm, to spare her the pain he had seen reflected in so many others. Yet now, he found himself inadvertently inflicting that very pain upon her. He understood the significance of their budding friendship to Annie, how rare it was for her to open up to someone outside her tight-knit circle. The thought of betraying that trust filled Leo with a profound sense of regret and self-reproach.

Leo wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between his desire to protect Annie and his own uncertainty and confusion.

"I messed up," Leo confessed, his voice heavy with remorse as he approached Justin at his locker, his expression etched with guilt. Justin turned to him, concern flickering in his eyes as Leo bared his soul. "You told me to reassure her, to show her I wouldn't hurt her. But instead, I pushed her away because I panicked and didn't know what else to do."

Justin's hand found its way to Leo's shoulder, offering a comforting gesture of support. "You really care about her, don't you? You gonna tell me who she is?"

Leo's lips twitched with a hint of wry amusement. "No chance."

"Fair enough," Justin conceded, closing his locker with a resolute nod.

Leo's frustration was palpable as he ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing with uncertainty. "What should I do?" he implored, desperation lacing his words.

Justin chuckled softly, sensing the depth of Leo's turmoil. "Talk to her, apologize for shutting her out, and show her that you care. Take her somewhere special, somewhere that matters to her."

Leo's skepticism was evident as they began to walk down the crowded hallway, their footsteps echoing against the tiled floor. "She's not going to want to see me after I disappeared on her like that," he muttered, his tone tinged with resignation.

Justin draped an arm around Leo's shoulders, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe not. But it's worth a shot. Just be sincere, Leo. Let her know that you're sorry and that you want to make things right."

Leo nodded, albeit reluctantly, his thoughts consumed by the daunting task ahead. Uncertainty loomed like a shadow over him, but deep down, he knew that he had to try. For Annie's sake, and for his own.

✉

When Annie caught sight of Leo approaching her in the library, her stomach twisted with a mixture of surprise and unease. His usual swagger was gone, replaced by something quieter, almost subdued. His gaze was fixed on the floor, shoulders slightly hunched, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Annie's first instinct was to hide the letter she had been writing, as if her private thoughts might somehow expose too much, make her vulnerable. She tucked the paper beneath her notebook and straightened in her seat, feigning indifference, though her heart raced uncomfortably.

"Hey, Annie..." Leo's voice was different too—softer, less sure of itself, as if he was unsure of how to approach her. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing up briefly before looking back at the floor. "How are you?"

Annie's fingers tightened around the edge of her notebook, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She couldn't help the flicker of hurt that crossed her face. Almost two weeks. It had been nearly two weeks since Leo had spoken to her, and now here he was, out of nowhere. What did he want? Why now? Her chest felt heavy, but she forced herself to keep her voice steady. "Did you need something?"

Her question came out quiet but with an edge of vulnerability she couldn't hide.

Leo hesitated, shifting from foot to foot. His usual ease and confidence seemed to have vanished, replaced by uncertainty. "No, not really. I just... I wanted to talk."

"Why?" Annie's response was sharper than she intended, her frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. She had spent days wondering why he had suddenly vanished, why he had gone from being around all the time to nowhere at all. Now he was back, acting as if nothing had happened.

Leo faltered, clearly not expecting her directness. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "I don't know. I guess I realized we haven't really talked in a while."

Annie nodded, but the tension in her shoulders didn't ease. She wanted to tell him how much his absence had hurt, how much she had overthought every moment they'd shared. But her nature, the quiet, reserved part of her, kept the words locked inside. She wasn't someone who confronted people easily. She had learned long ago to internalize her feelings, to keep them hidden away where no one could see the cracks.

But inside, she was angry. Angry that he could just waltz back into her life as if nothing had changed. Angry that he hadn't bothered to reach out, leaving her to feel like she was just an afterthought in his world. She had grown used to being overlooked by others, but this felt different. This felt more personal.

Leo shifted again, clearly uncomfortable with the silence hanging between them. He sat down across from her, his usual confident posture replaced by something more tentative. "Look, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know I've been... distant. I didn't mean to—neglect you or anything."

Annie's chest tightened at the word. Neglect. That was what it felt like.

Like he had placed her on the back burner, forgotten about her until it was convenient for him to reappear. She looked down at her hands, fingers tracing the edge of the notebook as she tried to contain her rising emotions. Was his absence deliberate? Had he chosen to distance himself, or had she simply slipped from his mind as easily as everyone else seemed to?

"Why are you really here, Leo?" Annie's voice was soft but firm, her gaze finally lifting to meet his. It was a question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to, but one she needed to ask.

Leo blinked, clearly caught off guard by her directness. He had expected something different—maybe relief, maybe forgiveness. Instead, her steady gaze and calm words felt like a challenge. "Because..." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck again, searching for the right words. "I missed you, Annie."

The words hung in the air between them, simple but heavy with meaning. Annie's heart stuttered, a mix of disbelief and confusion swirling in her chest.

Missed me?

She wanted to believe him, but the doubts gnawed at the edges of her mind. He had been gone for nearly two weeks without a word. Could she trust that his absence hadn't been intentional? Could she trust that he wouldn't disappear again when it suited him?

Annie slowly stood, gathering her books with a deliberate calm. Her hands were steady, though her heart pounded in her chest. The weight of his words lingered, but she refused to let herself be swayed so easily. She couldn't allow herself to be someone's second choice, someone's fallback.

"Where are you going?" Leo's voice cracked slightly, his eyes widening as she began to walk away. He stood, reaching out instinctively, but stopped himself just short of touching her. There was a note of desperation in his voice that surprised even him.

Annie turned to face him, her expression steady, though her eyes betrayed the sadness she felt. "My kindness isn't a weakness, Leo," she said softly, but with conviction. "I'm not someone you can just drift in and out of when it's convenient. I deserve more than that."

Her words cut through the air like a blade, sharp and precise. Leo's mouth opened as if to protest, but nothing came out. He could see it now—the hurt he had caused, the disappointment etched into her features. And worst of all, he knew she was right.

"Annie, wait—" Leo's voice was desperate now, pleading, but she was already turning away, her back to him as she walked toward the exit. Each step felt heavier than the last, her heart aching with the weight of her own resolve. She didn't want to leave him, didn't want to walk away, but she had to. For her own sake.

Leo stood there, frozen in place, watching her go. The library seemed quieter now, emptier. His mind raced, searching for something to say, something to fix what he had broken. But the words wouldn't come.

And so, he watched her leave, left alone with the crushing realization of his own mistakes.