There was once a boy named Roky, and a girl named Smriti. They lived in the same small town where everyone knew each other, yet somehow, their hearts found each other in the most unexpected way.
Roky was a quiet boy. He wasn't the type who spoke much or tried to stand out. He preferred sitting by himself, listening to music, watching the sky change colors during sunset, and writing his thoughts in a small notebook he never showed anyone. People often thought he was distant, but inside, Roky felt deeply. He believed in love, not the loud kind, but the kind that stayed, even in silence.
Smriti was different. She had a gentle smile that made people feel at ease. She was kind, thoughtful, and always noticed things others ignored—like a wilted flower by the roadside or a lonely classmate sitting alone. Smriti believed that emotions were meant to be felt honestly, even if they hurt sometimes. She wasn't loud either, but her presence was warm, like sunlight on a winter morning.
Their story began on an ordinary day. Roky and Smriti were in the same college, though they had never spoken before. One afternoon, during a power cut in the library, Smriti accidentally dropped her books. Roky, who was sitting nearby, quietly helped her pick them up. Their fingers brushed for a second, and both felt something strange—something they couldn't explain.
"Thank you," Smriti said softly.
Roky nodded, his heart beating faster than usual. That was it. No long conversation. No dramatic moment. But from that day on, they began noticing each other.
They started meeting more often—sometimes by coincidence, sometimes by choice. They talked about simple things: favorite songs, childhood memories, dreams they were afraid to say out loud. Roky discovered that Smriti loved poetry, and Smriti learned that Roky wrote stories but never shared them. Slowly, trust grew between them.
Their love didn't arrive suddenly. It grew quietly, like a seed watered by shared smiles, late-night messages, and long walks where words weren't always necessary. They understood each other in a way that felt rare. When Smriti was sad, Roky listened without trying to fix everything. When Roky doubted himself, Smriti believed in him enough for both of them.
But life is never as simple as love.
As time passed, reality began to interfere. Smriti's family wanted her to move to another city for higher studies. It was a big opportunity—one she had worked hard for. Roky was proud of her, but fear slowly crept into his heart. He was afraid of distance, afraid of change, afraid of losing her.
The night before Smriti left, they met at their usual place—a quiet park under an old tree. The air was heavy with emotions they struggled to express.
"Will we be okay?" Smriti asked, her voice trembling.
Roky wanted to say yes. He wanted to promise forever. But he knew life was uncertain.
"I don't know," he said honestly. "But what we have… it's real."
Smriti smiled sadly. "Real doesn't always mean easy."
They didn't cry that night. They just sat together, holding onto the moment, knowing it would soon become a memory.
Distance changed things. Messages became shorter. Calls became less frequent. Not because love faded, but because life grew heavier. New responsibilities, new people, new struggles slowly created a gap neither of them knew how to close.
One day, Smriti stopped replying.
Roky waited. He didn't blame her. He didn't hate her. He simply accepted the silence. He returned to his notebook, but this time, every page carried her name. He wrote about a love that didn't fail, but also didn't survive.
Years later, Roky became a writer. His stories touched many hearts, though no one knew the real inspiration behind them. Smriti, on the other hand, built a successful life in another city. She smiled often, but sometimes, when she heard a familiar song or saw an old tree, her heart ached.
One evening, by chance, Smriti found a book at a store. The author's name caught her attention—Roky.
She bought it. She read it in one night. And in every line, she found pieces of herself. She realized then that some love stories don't end with togetherness. Some are meant to live forever in memory.
Roky and Smriti never met again. But they lived on in each other's hearts, as a reminder that true love doesn't always need a happy ending. Sometimes, it just needs to be real.
And theirs was.