After 7 Months Of No

Connection??

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of my hostel room, painting golden streaks across my bed. Today was my first official lecture at the university. My stomach fluttered with nervous excitement. After months of preparing, dreaming, and imagining what life in the university would be like, the day had finally arrived. I carefully arranged my bag, making sure my notebooks, pens, and schedule were all perfectly in place. My sister had left a small note on my desk, wishing me luck and reminding me to eat breakfast.

I grabbed my toast and tea, taking a deep breath. “Okay, Susan,” I whispered to myself, “first day, first impression… try not to embarrass yourself.”

The walk to my lecture hall was both exciting and intimidating. Students streamed through the campus, some laughing with friends, others running late, books clutched tightly to their chests. I felt the weight of anticipation as I scanned the crowd, half-expecting to see Trust’s familiar face. But he wasn’t there. Not a single glimpse of him in the throngs of students.

I tried to shake it off. Maybe he had a class at a different time, or perhaps he was in the library. I found my seat and took a deep breath, letting the energy of the room wash over me. Lectures had always made me a little anxious, but today it was thrilling—the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

After the lecture, I ran into one of my sister’s friends near the campus café. “Hey, Susan!” she waved. “Have you seen Trust around?”

I blinked, startled. “Trust? Um… no, not yet. Why?”

She smiled. “He went to another city to sign his logbook. He’ll be back later today, though. You didn’t hear?”

I nodded, trying not to show my disappointment. Logbook signing or not, the fact that he wasn’t around when I was so eager to see him made my chest ache in a strange, unexplainable way

The day passed slowly. I attended my classes, tried to focus on the lectures, and even made a few new acquaintances. But in the back of my mind, Trust was always there—a shadow I couldn’t shake. Every time the door opened, I instinctively looked up, half-expecting him to appear.

By the late afternoon, I had almost convinced myself that he might not show up today at all. I wandered back to the hostel, exhausted yet restless, my mind replaying every interaction from the morning. As I rounded the corner near the common room, I overheard a familiar voice.

“Trust is back!” someone shouted across the hallway. My heart jumped. I quickened my pace, eager to catch a glimpse. And then, I saw him. Standing by the staircase, adjusting his bag straps, his posture relaxed yet confident. The sunlight hit his hair just right, giving him this almost ethereal glow.

I felt my cheeks warm as I approached. My hands fidgeted with my bag strap, unsure of what to do. My sister’s friend noticed me and called out, “Susan was asking about you earlier!”

Trust turned his head, his eyes locking onto mine. A small, surprised smile tugged at his lips. “Oh… she was asking?”

I nodded, my heart pounding. “Yeah… um, I just… wanted to know if you were back.”

For a moment, there was a silence that seemed to stretch forever. Then, I remembered my resolve—I had been waiting for this moment, and it was time to take a small step. Summoning all my courage, I asked, “Can I… have your number?”

His eyes widened slightly, a hint of amusement and curiosity flickering across his face. “Oh… you want my number?” he asked, his tone teasing but soft.

I nodded again, trying not to stammer. “Yeah… so we can… talk, maybe?”

Trust chuckled lightly, shaking his head as if amused by my boldness. Then, he pulled out his phone and handed it to me. My fingers brushed his briefly as I typed in my number. That brief touch sent a jolt through me—a spark I couldn’t ignore.

“Done,” I said, stepping back, suddenly shy under his gaze.

“Done,” he echoed, his voice low, smooth, and comforting. “I’ll text you later.”

As we stood there, something shifted between us. The air seemed heavier, charged with an unspoken energy. I couldn’t quite explain it, but I knew—this was the beginning. The first step toward a connection that neither of us had anticipated, yet both had quietly hoped for.

By the time I put my phone down, it was past midnight. I lay in bed, thinking about the way he smiled when I asked for his number, the way his eyes seemed to linger just a little longer when we were near each other. I realized something that scared me a little—Trust wasn’t just a passing acquaintance anymore. He was becoming… someone important.

And in that quiet moment, I knew the dynamic between us had changed forever. That simple exchange of numbers had unlocked a door neither of us had planned to open. A door to friendship, to laughter, and perhaps… to something deeper.

I drifted off to sleep with a small smile on my lips, my mind replaying every word, every glance, every fleeting moment of connection. The chemistry between us was undeniable, subtle yet electric, and I knew it was only the beginning.

Over the next few hours, we bumped into each other around the hostel. Each encounter was small—a smile in the hallway, a nod in the cafeteria—but each one added to the growing chemistry. Every glance lingered a little longer than usual. Every brush of our hands sparked something that made my heart race.

That evening, as I sat in my room, my phone buzzed. I froze for a second, then saw his name light up the screen. My chest tightened as I read the first message:

*Trust: Hey… glad we finally have numbers. Hope your first day went well.*

I smiled, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. My heart was doing flips. I typed back carefully, trying to keep my cool:

*Susan: Hey! Thanks… it was okay. A bit overwhelming, but I survived.*

The conversation continued into the night, casual at first, but slowly shifting into shared jokes, small confessions about our classes, favorite foods, and dreams for the future. The more we typed, the more I realized how much I wanted to know him—not just the surface stuff, but everything about him.

[

The next morning, I woke up with a lingering sense of excitement. Finally, I had Trust’s number. Finally, I could text him, get to know him, maybe even become friends. But that excitement vanished almost immediately when I overheard a conversation in the common room.

“Trust and his girlfriend are so cute together,” someone said, laughing.

My heart dropped. My stomach lurched. Girlfriend? Trust? My mind froze. I felt like someone had shoved cold water over me. All those small glances, all the sparks I thought I had felt—it meant nothing. He was taken.

I couldn’t breathe properly for a moment. My chest felt tight, my heart heavy with disappointment. I had already allowed myself to imagine moments with him, conversations that went beyond polite greetings, maybe even laughter shared in secret. And now… that door slammed shut before it had even opened. For the next few days, I avoided him. I skipped the common room when I knew he’d be around, pretended to be busy whenever our paths crossed, and kept my phone close just to resist the urge to text him. It was like I had built an invisible wall between us, protecting myself from the inevitable heartbreak I thought was waiting.

I tried to focus on my lectures, on making new friends, on anything but him. But life, as it often does, refused to let him disappear entirely. I’d catch glimpses of him helping someone carry books, laughing with a group, or glancing toward me just slightly too long to be coincidental. Each time, my heart clenched painfully, reminding me of the chemistry we had shared—even if I was pretending it didn’t exist.

Then one evening, as I sat alone in my room reviewing notes for tomorrow’s lecture, my phone buzzed. I almost didn’t pick it up, fearing what it could be. But the name that appeared on the screen made my heart skip a beat: *Trust*.

I stared at it, frozen, as if my body couldn’t decide whether to scream, cry, or laugh. Finally, with trembling fingers, I unlocked the phone. The message was simple.

*Trust: Hi.*

Just “Hi.” No explanations, no apologies, nothing. But my chest felt like it had just been punched, in the best and worst way possible. The simplicity of it carried a weight I couldn’t ignore.

I stared at the message for what felt like forever, my mind racing. Should I reply? Could I even look past the fact that he supposedly had a girlfriend? My fingers hovered over the keyboard, heart hammering in my chest.

Finally, I typed, my thumbs shaking:

*Susan: Hi…*

There was a pause, almost unbearable, as I waited for him to reply. And then the message came.

*Trust: I know this might seem sudden, but I wanted to talk to you. Can we meet?*

My stomach did a somersault. Talk? Meet? My mind screamed with a mix of excitement and fear. Could I really face him after all this? After building walls around my heart? I wanted to run, to hide, to pretend none of this ever mattered—but I also couldn’t ignore the pull I still felt.

I took a deep breath and typed back:

*Susan: Okay… where?*