Aarav stared at the half-written letter for what felt like forever.
The pen rested between his fingers, unmoving. For someone who always had something to say—jokes, sarcasm, random comments—he suddenly found himself… stuck.
"What am I even doing?" he whispered.
He wasn't the kind of person who replied to strangers. He barely replied to people he actually knew.
And yet, here he was… trying to answer a letter that wasn't even meant for him.
He looked back at the first line he had written.
"I don't know who you are. And honestly, I wasn't supposed to read your letter."
Aarav sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Too rude."
He crossed it out.
Then again… maybe honesty wasn't rude. Maybe it was the only thing that made sense here.
After a moment, he continued writing.
---
"I don't know who you are. And honestly, I wasn't supposed to read your letter.
But I did. And I'm glad I did."
---
He paused.
The words felt strange… but not wrong.
---
"You asked if anyone has ever felt alone even when surrounded by people.
Yeah… I think that's more common than we admit."
---
Aarav leaned back slightly, staring at the paper.
Memories flickered through his mind—crowded classrooms, noisy canteens, laughing groups… and him, always there, but never really part of anything.
He shook his head and continued.
---
"I don't know what happened to make you stop believing in love.
But I know what it feels like when something you trusted completely… suddenly feels like nothing."
---
His grip tightened on the pen.
For a second, he thought of stopping.
But he didn't.
---
"You said strangers don't judge.
Maybe that's why this feels easier. Because I don't have to pretend here.
And neither do you."
---
A soft breeze passed through the room again, lifting the corner of the paper.
Aarav smiled faintly.
---
"So… if you're okay with it,
you can write again.
I'll read."
---
He stared at the last line for a long moment.
Simple. No promises. No expectations.
Just… presence.
For the first time in a while, it felt enough.
---
The next morning, Aarav found himself doing something unusual.
He woke up early.
Not for class. Not for an assignment.
But for a letter.
He folded the page neatly and placed it inside the same envelope. There was no address to send it to… no clear way to return it.
Which left him with only one option.
He walked to the college's old notice board near the library—a place students rarely paid attention to anymore. The wood was faded, filled with outdated announcements and peeling papers.
Aarav glanced around.
No one was watching.
Quietly, he slipped the envelope between the edge of the board and a loose pin.
For a second, he just stood there.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered.
But he didn't take it back.
---
Days passed.
Nothing happened.
No reply. No sign that anyone had even noticed.
Aarav told himself it didn't matter. It wasn't like he expected anything. It was just a random moment of curiosity… nothing more.
At least, that's what he kept repeating.
---
On the fourth day, he stopped by the notice board again.
He wasn't sure why.
Maybe habit. Maybe hope.
He scanned the board casually… pretending not to care.
And then he saw it.
A new envelope.
Same off-white paper.
Same faint floral scent.
Same messy handwriting:
"To the stranger who replied…"
---
Aarav felt something shift inside him.
A slow, unfamiliar smile appeared on his face.
Without wasting a second, he pulled the envelope out and opened it.
His eyes rushed through the words.
---
"I didn't expect a reply.
Honestly, I thought my letter would just disappear somewhere… like everything else."
---
He leaned against the wall, completely still.
---
"But you replied.
And somehow, that makes this world feel a little less empty."
---
Aarav exhaled slowly.
---
"You said I could write again.
So here I am.
Still a stranger.
Still broken.
But maybe… a little less alone."
---
For the first time in a long time—
Aarav didn't feel alone either.
---
And just like that,
what started as a misplaced letter…
was turning into something neither of them could explain.
---
To be continued…