LOVE BEYOND I LOVE YOU PT - 1

Yuchi «“Some people stay in your life forever, even after they leave it.”» When I think about my past, there’s always one person who stands out — someone who shines brighter than everyone else. Her memories are so clear that sometimes it feels like she still exists somewhere inside my heart. Just like everyone else, I once had a best friend. And her name was Yuchi. I met Yuchi ten years ago, when we were both in 7th standard. She had come for admission to our school. I still remember seeing her for the first time in the school office. Our mothers made us sit together on a big chair and told us not to wander off. After a few minutes, I introduced myself. She looked down shyly and said in a soft voice, “My name is Yuchi. I’m 13 years old old.” Her mother smiled and asked my name. “I’m Navya,” I replied, “and Yuchi and I are in the same class.” They smiled warmly and said they would meet us tomorrow before leaving. After school, I went home. Back then, we lived inside the school campus. That evening, I saw furniture being moved into the house next to ours. Curious, I asked my mother if I could go see who the new neighbours were, but she refused because she thought I might get hurt while the workers were carrying things. So I stayed near the window, quietly watching. Almost two hours later, I finally saw her. The same girl from school. Yuchi. At first, I was too nervous to talk to her. I thought she probably wouldn’t like me. Kids at school often called me names like “Piggy” and “Japanese,” and after hearing those things for so long, I started believing maybe I really wasn’t someone people wanted to be friends with. But something inside me kept saying, What if this is your chance? So somehow, I gathered courage and walked up to her. She had this quiet confidence that I secretly admired. I looked down nervously and said, “Hi, sis. Nice to meet you. You’re my neighbour now, so… can we be friends?” For a second, she stayed quiet. Then she smiled a little and said, “Okay. I’m new here anyway. Staying near you will be nice. Meet me here tomorrow at noon. We’ll play.” And just like that, everything started. «“Some friendships begin so quietly, you don’t realize they’ll become part of your soul.”» For the next few weeks, life felt strangely perfect. We played together every day, laughed at stupid things, shared snacks, secrets, and random stories. Somehow, being around her felt easy — like I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I truly had a friend. But then one day, Yuchi suddenly stopped coming to school. At first, I thought maybe she was just sick. But after classes ended, something inside me felt restless, so I went to her house. Her mother opened the door and told me Yuchi had gone outside for an outing. But while she was talking, I heard something faint. Someone crying. I quietly followed the sound and found Yuchi lying on her bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket. Her eyes were red and swollen, like she had been crying for hours. “Hey, Yuchi,” I whispered softly. “It’s me, Navya.” She slowly looked at me and forced a weak smile. “I can’t come today… I’m not feeling well.” I sat beside her carefully. “Can I stay here with you?” She nodded a little. For a while, neither of us said anything. Then I quietly asked, “Yuchi… do you think of me as your friend?” She looked confused. “Of course I do. Why are you asking that?” I looked down at my hands. “Because I feel like you’re hiding something from me.” At first, she denied it. But when I gently held her hand, she slowly pulled up her sleeve. And my heart stopped. There was a wound on her arm. I didn’t know what to say. She told me everything after that — how her parents believed friends only make people weak, how they got angry after seeing us together, and how they punished her for not listening to them. The more she spoke, the heavier my chest felt. I couldn’t understand how someone so kind had to hide her pain like that. «“Sometimes the people who smile the softest are the ones hurting the most.”» That night, I talked to her parents myself, but every answer they gave felt different from the last. Later, I begged them to let me stay with Yuchi because she was sick. After a long silence, they finally agreed. That night, after Yuchi fell asleep, I quietly walked outside to speak to them again. And that’s when they said something I never forgot. “You should stop staying close to her,” her mother said coldly. “You’ll spoil her future. If you really care about her, then leave her. We’re shifting soon anyway. Help her understand that she needs to obey us.” Their words hurt more than I expected. It felt like someone had pushed something heavy into my chest. But I still nodded slowly and whispered, “Okay, aunty… I understand.” That entire night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept staring at the ceiling, wondering why caring about someone had to hurt this much. The next morning, I told Yuchi that we should go to my favourite place together one last time. A place I called Dog Mountain because the shape of the hill looked like a dog’s face from far away. The wind was really strong that day. Yuchi kept fixing her hair while talking, and I remember thinking how normal everything looked even though my chest felt heavy the entire time. We sat quietly beside each other, watching the clouds move slowly across the sky. I didn’t know how to say goodbye. I didn’t want that moment to end. Because somewhere inside me, I already knew things were about to change. Finally, I gathered courage and said, “Yuchi… this might be our last day together.” She laughed immediately. “Good joke, Navya. You can’t survive without me.” I smiled weakly. “I’m serious.” The smile on her face slowly disappeared. I told her she should listen to her parents and focus on her future. But instead of understanding, she got angry. We argued. She cried. And then she ran away. «“The hardest goodbyes are the ones said for someone else’s happiness.”» The next day, her family decided to leave. Everyone helped them pack their things while Yuchi stayed unusually quiet the whole time. Before leaving, she came to me slowly and held out her hand. Inside it was a bracelet — blue and pink. “I want you to keep this,” she whispered. Then after a small pause, she added, “And promise me you’ll never forget me.” My throat tightened so badly that I couldn’t answer properly. So I just nodded. As their car drove away, I stood there watching until it completely disappeared. Even after it was gone, I stayed there for a long time. It felt strange. Like something important had been taken away from me. «“Some goodbyes never truly end. They just echo quietly inside us for years.”» Years passed after that. School changed, people changed, and somehow I changed too. I made new friends, laughed again, and slowly learned how to live without waiting for Yuchi every day. But no matter how normal life became, there were still moments when I remembered her suddenly. Sometimes when the weather felt quiet. Sometimes when I saw matching bracelets in shops. And sometimes for absolutely no reason. It was strange. Even after all those years, her memories still felt brighter than most things happening around me now. One spring morning, I sat on my balcony painting while soft sunlight covered everything around me. Without even realizing it, I painted a girl with long hair, a grey blazer, and a red tie. It was her. That same night, I dreamt about Yuchi. I couldn’t see her face clearly, but I heard her voice. “Don’t worry,” she whispered softly. “I remember you. I’ll come back soon.” When I woke up, tears were already running down my face. «“Maybe some people are meant to stay in our hearts, even if they can’t stay in our lives.”» Time kept moving after that. I made new friends — Lisa and Joseph — who slowly brought light back into my life again. They didn’t know much about Yuchi, only that she was someone important to me once. One evening, while we were cooking snacks for a movie night, Lisa suddenly looked at me and asked softly, “Nav… do you still try to find her sometimes?” For a moment, I froze. Then I quietly whispered, “No.” Lisa smiled gently and changed the topic, but deep down, I think both of us knew the truth. Later, our college announced a scholarship program for students who wanted to study in other states. I worked harder than ever before. And when I finally got selected, I chose a city far away. Maybe because somewhere deep inside me, I still hoped fate would bring me back to her somehow. When I arrived there, everything felt unfamiliar yet weirdly comforting at the same time. I explored the streets, unpacked my things, and slowly prepared myself for a new beginning. But even now, sometimes when the wind blows softly… Or when I look down at the bracelet still wrapped around my wrist… I can still hear her laughter faintly inside my memories. Like an echo that never completely faded away. Because some friendships don’t really end. They just learn how to live quietly inside our hearts. «“I think some people never really leave, no matter how far they go.”»