Love Shattered 💔

The first time Kabir saw Naina, she was laughing—head tilted back, sunlight tangled in her hair, unaware that someone had just fallen for her. And the last time he saw her, she was crying, her voice trembling, saying words that turned his world to dust.

“Maybe we were never meant to be, Kabir,” she whispered, her fingers slipping from his grip.

They had met in the old bookstore on MG Road, bonded over their love for Rumi and black coffee, and spent years building something that felt like forever. Late-night calls, stolen glances across crowded rooms, the quiet understanding in their silences—it all felt like poetry. But love, like poetry, is not always kind.

Cracks had started forming. First, small, like the lines in an old painting. Then deeper, sharper. His dreams and hers started pulling them in different directions. He wanted to stay. She wanted to leave. And love, no matter how strong, cannot always hold two people who are walking away from each other.

“I don’t know how to stop loving you,” he had said, his voice breaking.

She smiled, the saddest smile he had ever seen. “Maybe you’re not supposed to.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Months passed. The city remained the same, but it felt emptier. The bookstore, the coffee shop, even the rain—they all carried her absence. He learned to live with it, with the ache of missing someone who wasn’t coming back.

Some loves don’t die. They just shatter, leaving behind pieces too sharp to touch.