She still missed him.
Years had passed, but some feelings refused to understand time.
He still appeared from nowhere. Messages. Memories. Sometimes just a few words that made everything she had buried rise again.
And every time, he was still there. Still waiting. She always gave him the same answer.
No.
Not because she didn't love him. Perhaps because she loved him too much. She kept a distance between them, careful and almost cruel, like a candle standing beside a fire. Close enough to feel the warmth.
Far enough not to burn.
Because she knew if she stepped closer, something would end.
Maybe her or, Maybe him.
Maybe everything they had somehow managed to keep alive for all these years.
She was like a boring summer afternoon —heavy with heat, exhausting, making you sweat beneath a sun you were still afraid to escape.
And somehow, even the burn felt sweet.
His love was that kind of burn. He never really stopped chasing her. Not loudly. Not desperately.
He simply stayed.
Like the night waiting for sunrise. Like a plant waiting for rain. Like someone who had already chosen where he wanted to stand, even if she never turned around.
She wondered sometimes if he knew. Of course he did. He knew she loved him.
She knew he knew. But she would never say it. Because love, for her, had never been simple.
It was pure thirst.
A glass of water sitting right in front of her while she chose to remain thirsty.
She could have reached for it.
She never did.
Maybe that was her punishment. Maybe loving him was the sin, and refusing him was the only way she knew how to pay for it.
Year after year.
Without knowing when the debt would end.
If she was a sinner, she sometimes wondered— could a love like this ever be forgiven?
She didn't know.
She only knew that he was still waiting.
And she was still refusing.
Perhaps one day, he would finally stop. Perhaps one day, she would finally break.
Until then, they remained exactly where they had always been.
He, waiting for her.
She, loving him from a distance.
And somewhere between them stood the fire neither dared to touch.