Between Yesterday and Tomorrow

SIERRA'S POV It was a quiet day, but there was a storm brewing within me—one I couldn’t name, couldn’t understand. It had always been like this with Axel. We could be in the same room, and yet, it felt like there was an invisible wall between us. I could feel it even then, sitting beside him on that old, faded park bench. The sun was setting, casting a soft golden glow over the world, but all I could see was the distance growing between us. I was seventeen, and everything felt like it was slipping through my fingers. When Axel first kissed me, I thought I had found something I’d never lose. The way he held me, the way we laughed and whispered in the middle of the night—those were the moments I thought would last forever. I believed that love could conquer anything. But now, sitting there next to him, I realized I was wrong. Love wasn’t enough. Not when you were being pulled in two different directions. “Do you ever think about the future?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. I wasn’t sure why I said it. I wasn’t sure I even wanted the answer. Axel looked at me then, his eyes soft but distant, as if the words he was about to speak had already been said in his mind a thousand times. “All the time,” he said, but his words didn’t reach me like they used to. His voice didn’t have that warmth anymore, that spark. I was grasping at straws, trying to find a trace of the boy I fell in love with, but all I saw was someone who had already given up. “I want to be with you,” I whispered, the words so heavy in my chest that they almost choked me. “I want us to be together. No matter what.” He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and I hated him for it. He just stared ahead, as if I wasn’t sitting right next to him. And that was when it hit me—he wasn’t looking at me because he couldn’t. He wasn’t looking at me because he was already somewhere else. He had already left me long before he said the words that would finally sever the last of us. “I can’t do this anymore, Sierra,” he said, so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him. His voice was empty, detached, like he had said it a thousand times to himself before ever telling me. My heart stuttered, a slow, painful pulse that made me want to collapse right then and there. “What do you mean?” My voice cracked, and I hated myself for it. But I couldn’t help it. I wanted to scream. I wanted to beg him to stay, to tell me that he was just scared, that we could work it out. But I didn’t. I didn’t know how to fight for something that was already lost. “I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes never meeting mine. “I’ve already made up my mind. It’s not you… it’s everything. My parents… everything’s falling apart, and I can’t do this. Not right now.” His words hit me harder than any betrayal ever could. I wasn’t the reason, but that only made it worse. I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough to make him stay. And the worst part was, I knew deep down that I had already been losing him for months. I had watched it happen, seen it in his eyes before he ever spoke it aloud, but I was too afraid to acknowledge it. “Axel, please,” I begged, my voice barely a whisper. “Don’t do this.” But it was already done. And in that moment, I realized how alone I really was. He stood up, turning his back on me as if he had already made peace with his decision. “Goodbye, Sierra,” he said over his shoulder, his voice breaking just enough for me to know that it wasn’t easy for him either. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything. He was gone. I stayed there long after he left, the pain seeping into my bones, a deep ache that refused to fade. I watched the sun set, feeling the weight of it all press down on me, until the world was dark and empty. That night, I went home, and everything felt different. The house was quieter than usual, like even the walls knew something had changed. I went to my room, locked the door, and buried myself in the covers, hoping that somehow, I could sleep through the hurt. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t sleep because every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Axel—his face, his touch, the way he used to smile when everything was right between us. And it made the pain even worse. The weeks that followed were a blur. I couldn’t focus on anything. I went through the motions—school, friends, even family—but none of it felt real. I kept waiting for the pain to go away, for the heartache to dull. But it never did. It only grew deeper, more painful, until it felt like I was drowning in it. I saw Axel in every hallway, in every crowded room, but he was never really there. The boy I loved was gone, and I didn’t know how to bring him back. But what hurt the most wasn’t that Axel left me. It was that he had already left me long before the words were ever spoken. He had already chosen his path, and I was nothing more than a ghost in his past.