Days passed, slowly and almost painfully. Some were filled with happiness, others with loneliness. A few brought a heavy sense of despair, and others left her feeling like she didn't belong anywhere at all.
Exams came and went — some better, some worse, and some surprisingly good. But through it all, Amara stood firm.
She held onto things she believed were worth keeping and reached for goals that felt far out of reach.
Her determination and hard work remained unfazed, unmoved, unshaken. Then one afternoon, after hours of endless studying, she had had enough. She decided to take a walk around campus.
She didn't have a destination in mind — her feet would decide for her. She moved forward, but her mind was elsewhere, far from the quiet pathways and lecture halls.
"In all this," she thought, "apart from studying, apart from friends who only remember me when they need something… what can I possibly do that would truly make me feel satisfied?" The words felt heavy, even when whispered only to herself. She mattered faintly, and only to herself.
"Am I such a bad person to be friends with? Or am I the one who pushes people away?" The questions came, uninvited, with no answers. Deep down, she suspected they would remain unanswered forever.
"What is the point of being kind? Why try so hard to keep people in my life? Why am I always the one desperate to have someone by my side — and not the other way around? People come into my life, and then they leave. No goodbyes, no trace. It's like they were never here at all."
She was burning inside, though the fire was silent. All she wanted was someone who could offer a shoulder to lean on, someone who would truly listen, someone who could hear the cry beneath her words. She wanted someone to notice — and to stay.
But her only faithful companions were her books. Her only interests were the dense, hectic chapters of her modules. She wore a bright smile like a mask, hiding wounds she had no intention of revealing.
One student once asked her, "Amy, why are you always happy? And so calm?"
They didn't know the truth. She gave solutions to everyone's problems — academic, personal, or otherwise. Some called her the best therapist they knew; others said she was a gifted motivational speaker.
She was always ready with a tissue for someone in tears, or a meal for someone in need, no matter how little she had. She never saw a reason to stay comfortable if someone else was struggling.
She broke down walls of loneliness for others while her own loneliness stood tall and untouched, like the unbroken walls of Jericho.
"How can I possibly show them my weakness," she thought, "when they all believe in my strength? I just have to stay strong for them."
But deep down, things were falling apart. She was becoming a shadow of herself. Above all, she threw herself into her studies — not because she loved them, but because they were all she had.
What she needed was simple. One friend. Just one person to see her first tear, hold the second, and stop the third.