The Moon Forgets Too
💔 HE THOUGHT SHE WAS THE ONE, UNTIL…
Rhea always believed in forever. Not the kind that shows up in fairy tales, but the quiet kind — written in the folds of shared coffee cups, stargazing silences, and late-night messages saying, “Made it home safe.”
And then there was Aryan.
They met on a moonlit night at a hilltop poetry reading — two strangers bound by metaphors and melancholy. For two years, Rhea poured every syllable of her soul into loving him. She remembered every detail: the scar near his right brow, the exact scent of his cologne, the way he said “goodbye” like he was promising to return.
But forever sometimes wears a mask.
One evening, standing under the same moon that had watched them fall in love, Aryan said, “I think I’ve forgotten how to feel what we had.” No rage. No tears. Just an unspoken storm behind her silent stare.
He walked away like a page turned too soon.
Months passed. Rhea wrote, rewrote, and buried pieces of him in poems no one read. Her pain was private — until one day, she walked into a quaint bookstore in Shimla while traveling alone. A poetry book titled “Moonlight & You” caught her eye.
The author? Aryan V. Sen.
Her hands trembled as she flipped to a random page. It read:
“It hurts,
When the one
You’ll never
Forget,
Forgets
You.”
Her heart broke again — not because he remembered, but because he published the words she had once whispered to him.
He hadn’t forgotten.
He’d just written her into silence.