A Complex Connection

       

        I was going through my message requests on Instagram and opened a chat from a boy. He texted me a whole paragraph without saying hi or hello, or introducing himself. Instead of commenting on my post in the comments section, he DM'd me. I clicked on his profile and found him handsome. I responded with a very dry message of one or two words, then clicked back and started watching reels, totally forgetting about him. After about an hour or two, I picked up my phone and saw messages from him. We started talking and became friends.

        He told me about his single mother, whose husband had passed away years ago, and his three siblings besides him—two elder sisters who were married to very settled families and a younger brother. However, he seemed to try to create a fake perfect family background in front of me but failed, as I couldn't find anything perfect in it. I wasn't interested in his family background anyway.

        We talked for a few days until his PMA training started. During his training, I think we talked only once or twice. One time, when I made a new ID and texted him, he tried to ignore me, which gave me the vibe that he wasn't my type.

        Meanwhile, he was in contact with my sister, talking about me the whole time. He wanted to talk to me, but I was ignoring him. My sister assumed he had a crush on me and always insisted that I talk to him. I knew he had a crush on me, but I also noticed he was full of himself, which I didn't like.

        After two years of training, he became an army officer and approached me immediately. However, I didn't know he had texted me on my old ID, which I wasn't using frequently. When he got no response after days, he contacted my sister again, talking about me. This time, she convinced me to talk to him, even as friends. So, I did. Whenever he contacted me, the conversations weren't going anywhere; he would initiate, and I would reply with dry messages for one and a half month. 

        But he didn't back off. I noticed his efforts to have a conversation with me, and we became friends. I realized he was giving me all the right signals that he was interested in me. It wasn't love; we were just attracted to each other. One night, he confessed his feelings, so did I. However, he thought since I've confessed my feelings, I must be really in love with him. He took a step back, saying that we couldn't be together. He mentioned that we couldn't be together because there wasn't any guarantee of his life due to his job. In that exact moment, my dad came to my room, and I left the chat instantly to gave fully attention to him. He thought I left the chat out of sadness, grievances, or maybe embarrassment, but that wasn't the case. He sent 20-30 texts in a few minutes. Then, when I wasn't responding, he started calling me. 

        We both knew that our relationship had no future, so we were going with the flow, and we would separate when needed. 

        After some days, we were talking, and then he left a message on seen and didn't reply for weeks. He thought I might have gotten attached and would be craving his attention, but I wasn't. I didn't text him either; he was thinking maybe I would text him first, but I didn't, as I never do.

        After about two weeks, he approached again, and I replied. He was expecting a tantrum, but I was calm. Out of curiosity, he asked, "While I was gone, were you really not missing me? Aren't you hurt? Don't you want to fight?" 

I replied, "Why would I do that? You wanted to go, so you left—that's okay." He wasn't getting it; his assumptions weren't fulfilling his curiosity. 

        One day, he made a comment on my ripped jeans and said, "I can't be with a girl who loves such dressing. You've got to change your dressing sense; otherwise, we can't be together." 

He expected that now I would be attached to him and agree to whatever he said to be with him. But that wasn't the case. I replied, "Okay, then breakup. Everything will end here. Bye." 

He got confused again, wondering how it was possible that after months, I hadn't gotten attached to him. And he said, "No, I was just kidding. How could you end things so easily?" 

I replied, "You told me your rules—that you can't be with someone like me—so I just agreed. He replied, " No, no, i want to be with you".

        Days passed and then he said out of nowhere, 'What's your real name?' I looked up at him. 'The name you told me isn’t your real name,' he continued. 

'Then what's my real name?' I asked with a slight tilt in my neck. He replied with my mother's name. Since I had never told him my parents' names, I realized he must have checked whose name my SIM was registered under—it was my mom's. So, he thought I hadn't told him my real name. 'It's my mom,' I said. 

He remained quiet for a while and then said, 'Why can’t I believe you? I don’t believe you.'

I looked at him for a second, simmering with emotions that he had first checked my SIM registration and now wasn’t believing me. 'Then confirm where you got that information,' I replied, raising an eyebrow, and then I left. 

He called my name, but I ignored him. He ran after me, trying to stop me so we could talk. 'No, there’s nothing to talk about. We can’t be together. What’s the point of this relationship if you don’t believe me?' I said. He pleaded, reaching out to grab my hand. "No, don't you dare!" I said while taking a step back and left.

He messaged and called me repeatedly, the buzzing of my phone a constant reminder of his presence in my life. But I left him on 'seen,' ignoring the notifications.

        After a week or two, he approached me again, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. He claimed he had gotten a gunshot right on his heart, his voice low and serious. 

However, since he was wearing a bulletproof vest, he had been saved, though with a stain on his chest as his skin had been pressed a little because of the bullet. The thought of it sent a shiver down my spine. 

I didn't believe him, so he removed his shirt to show me. I wanted to touch that mark but chose not to. 

He wanted us to patch things up, so I said, 'Can't we just be friends? I want us to be friends. This isn't working between us.' He was like, 'No, I can't be friends with you. I love you, and that's impossible for me.'

        After some days, he started telling me about the girls who had crushes on him during our relationship to spark jealousy in me. But I was like, "Yeah, that happens. You know that friend of mine who proposed to me, right?" He replied, "Yeah." I said, 

"That was my first boyfriend," knowing I was the first girl he'd ever been attracted. He said, while controlling his emotions, "Why didn’t you tell me before?" I replied, "You never asked me." He said, "I thought I was your first love, like you're my first love." I said calmly, "No, that's not the case. He was my first love."

You've always told me I'm your weakness. How so?" I asked. 

 I think about you every moment of every day," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. 

"Whether I'm at work or the gym, you're always on my mind. I text you day and night, and I wait for your replies, counting the minutes until I hear from you. When I see something beautiful, I wish you were here to experience it with me. I take pictures and share them with you, hoping you'll feel like you're a part of it. Every stunning view, every lovely moment, reminds me of you. Watching the sunset, gazing at the cloudy sky, or seeing the moon shine bright at night – it all makes me think of you. You've become the center of my world, the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I sleep. I feel like my life revolves around you, and I didn't even realize it until you came into my life. You're the melody that fills my heart, and I don't know how to live without you".

        "I really missed you today," he said while kissing my forehead. "You know my father won't agree to us. What are we going to do?" I asked while looking into his eyes, searching for answers. "We'll find a way, just give me some time," he said, trying to assure me. 

"Whenever we talk about this, you always say that you need some time. How much time? How long? How long do I have to wait?" I asked, taking a step back. 

"I don't know. Maybe three years. Just give me three years," he said. 

I snorted and said, "You must be kidding me. I told you to choose me or your job, but what did you do? You want to be with me and continue your job too. Well, that's not going to happen." 

He held me by the elbow and pulled me toward him, saying, "I love you, just wait for some time. I'm waiting for the right time." 

I  firmly pried his fingers loose, my skin warm from his touch. With a firm motion, I pulled my arm away, breaking free from his grasp. I took a step back, my voice firmed as I said, "No, you don't love me enough. Breakup. Yeah, I want a breakup. I'm breaking up with you." 

He looked taken aback by my sudden decision, his eyes widening in surprise. "Wait, no, don't say that," he pleaded.

He grabbed me by my waist, pulled me close. His arms wrapped around my waist, his grip gentle yet firm. "Don't do this. I can't live without you," he said. 

I placed my hand on his chest, pushed him to break free from his grip, and said, 'No, it's the end. Everything ends here," and turned to walk away. 

He called my name, tried to chase me, but I got into the car. I heard him saying, "May God damn me."

He still didn't back off; he tried to approach me for months, texting me everywhere and calling me throughout the day, even at night, despite my ignoring his calls and seeing his messages without replying.

        After I broke up with him, the next week I went on a friends' trip along with my male best friend and, my ex-boyfriend before him and then he got to know about my trip. When he got to know about my trip, he was shocked. 

He thought I would be like those girls whose worlds stop for a boy, and I'll stay in bed for days and cry over our breakup. He even texted me saying, 'Here I am... suffering... from all of this... and you went on that trip. Didn't you love me a little? Didn't you get hurt over all of this?' I left him on 'seen' again.

An unknown number called. I picked up and asked, 'Who's this?' He told me his name. Realizing it was him, I hung up the call. He called me again several times, but I didn't pick up. 

Then, one day, I found out he had been in an accident during some attacks on the border. He had been shot by bullets in his left arm and shoulder. Even after three surgeries, he couldn't recover 100% in his life. Because of this, he couldn't continue his military service as per the military rules. So, he had to take retirement

"I replied to his messages to know how he was doing, and then he told me that when I last picked up his call was the time when he regained consciousness after the medical treatment. He wanted to talk to me, but I had hung up without listening to him