The Silence Between Us

After Four Months of Silence

The pain. The confusion. The shame. The yearnings.

I thought everything between us ended in February.
That was the day the sky dimmed in my little world.

All my hope, my prayers, the quiet affirmations I whispered into my pillow each night — they vanished like smoke.

In the days that followed, I didn’t leave my room.
No lectures, no texts, no calls — only silence.
Not the kind that heals, but the kind that swallows you whole.

I stopped looking in the mirror.
Not because I wasn’t there, but because the version of me that once smiled, that once glowed, was gone.
In that place stood a girl with swollen eyes, a shattered spirit, and a face washed in grief.

And yet, slowly, painfully, I tried to move on.

I told myself: You came here with dreams that took everything to build. You’ve survived worse. You will rise.

Just when I thought I was beginning to breathe again — the email arrived.

A formal notice.
A report.

The word itself felt like a slap.
And then, the name. His name. He had reported me. 

The very person I loved — quietly, deeply, selflessly.
The one I prayed for. The one who had once brought light to my darkest days. The one I had dreamt my whole life with.
Now, calling me a threat.

I didn’t understand.
How could someone I never touched, never cornered, never followed, accuse me of invading his space? Yes, I loved and expressed my emotions, but I swear I never crossed his boundaries. All I ever did was try not to make him uncomfortable or be around him in a way that could bother him.

I was called for an investigation.
I spoke the truth — trembling, but clear.

Then came April. His impact statement.
By June, I received the full report: timelines, messages, voice notes.

I opened the folder… and collapsed.

In the statement, he wrote:
“Having to always look around to make sure she was not too close to me in any particular environment – from the gates of my accommodation to the classroom itself – was not a fun experience.”

That sentence broke me.

I had never been that close. I had always kept my distance. I had walked with silence, with dignity.
Yes, I had loved but I had never crossed a line. NEVER!

I cried all night, screaming into my empty walls, wishing someone could just understand.
But I couldn’t tell anyone.

Then someone who knew a part of the story said something that burned deeper than the report itself:
“Maybe he thought you were behind him for Swiss nationality or money. Maybe he felt trapped.”

That was when I realized the world wouldn’t see the truth.
They would build their own — brick by brick on top of my broken heart.

Did they forget I am human too?

I didn’t love for a passport.
I didn’t pray for someone’s wealth.
I loved — maybe stupidly, maybe naively but with a heart that never asked for anything in return, just only for love, reassurance, and time.

Now there’s only this hollow space between us.
Where once there was an unspoken connection, there is now silence thick.

We are strangers — legally, emotionally, completely.

Tomorrow the final decision arrives, but I cannot speak.
The words choke inside me.
All I can do is cry.

Because deep down, I still want to ask him:

• Did you know how much I struggled after you left?

• Did you know how much I missed you every single day?

• Did you know how many times I begged God to take the pain away so I could simply breathe again?

• Did you know that I avoided your eyes out of love, nervousness, and fear — not obsession?

• Did you ever realize how this broke my studies, my sleep, my appetite?

• Did you know how you made me appear disrespectful in front of the committee by sending all those messages and emotional, screaming voice notes ?

Was it revenge?
The people were right when they said, “You were only his time pass, he played with your emotions, maybe he was already committed.” "He had ego and he doesn't wanna choose you, maybe he had kept you as option. He enjoyed triggering you".

What did I ever do to you, except love?

I never forced you.
I never crossed your space.
All I wanted was to solve the misunderstanding.
All I ever hoped for was a simple conversation.

Is that a crime?

I admired you.
Respected you.
But I never harassed you.
Never threatened you.
Never wanted to disturb your peace or your exchange experience.

You misunderstood a heart that beat for you, and turned it into something dangerous.

Now, my mind and heart is in pieces.
Unsettled. Longing.
Not just for answers, but for you.

Because despite everything — the silence, the accusations, the pain — I can’t see another man the same way.
No one feels like you.
No one is you.

The case may be over, but the story still lingers inside me.
As love. As longing.
As a wound the world mistook for a weapon.

It started with you.
It ended with me.

From gazing, admiring, blushing, butterflies…
To conflict, chaos, nausea, and pain.

I’ve kept this from my family, knowing it would only bring them sorrow/worry.
No one should ever have to endure this.

And yet, somehow… I’m still standing.

Not with anger. Not with hate.
But with a quietness.

Fact: He knew everything. He simply didn’t want me in his life. Simple.

~ Just an ordinary girl, speaking with warmth and kindness.