WHITE2
⚠️|| childhood love, unresolved heartbreak, emotional repression, no real breakup just silence, heavy nostalgia, one-sided reconnection, angst.
🎞️|| you and ausar were supposed to be forever. instead, he left without a word and made it to the league. you made it to nursing school. three years later, his name drops on the radio—and just like that, the silence breaks
“I woke, you were there, tracing planets on my forehead. But I'll forget 23 like I forget 17 And I forget my first love like you forget a daydream”
You sat there on the arm of the couch, fries in your lap, phone face-down. For the first time in a long time, you had been letting yourself think. Not about him exactly, but about the idea of you and Ausar. The version people loved to praise.
You remembered the disappointment from the everyone when it ended—those sad, sorry looks like you’d just gone and died. Like your grief was just proof you two couldn’t handle a relationship.
You just kept remembering,
all the arguments you shoved down because you didn’t want to mess up the image. The way he’d rip your heart out sometimes without even realizing he was holding it. Or worse—without caring. The cold shoulder. The missed calls. The guilt that felt like yours even when he was the one that left you high and dry.
You remembered how needy you were. How you had spent years believing that love meant never being apart. That closeness meant safety. That if you weren’t next to him, you weren’t anything.
Y’all had been attached at the hip since Pre-K.
And somehow... you didn’t find yourself until college. Twenty-something years old, staring at a dorm ceiling in Atlanta, realizing you’d never actually learned how to be alone.
It wasn’t him you were missing. Not really. It was the illusion of safety, of certainty. Of being chosen unconditionally.
And now he was back.
Kind of.
Sort of.
Maybe.
Your stomach turned. Not from butterflies. From the weight of knowing better.
“You know how we’ve been wondering how to get Pistons tickets ‘cause they’re so expensive?” your roommate asked, tossing her purse onto the couch like it owed her money.
You barely looked up from your fries. “Yeah, why?”
“Well…” She leaned against the counter like she was about to deliver a scandalous secret. “Remember that guy I matched with? Plays for the Hawks? Tall, light skin, fake deep voice?”
You gave her a look. “The one you said ‘is definitely hiding a baby’?”
She grinned. “That’s the one. He’s been tryna get onnat lately, and guess who’s got us tunnel access for next Friday when the Pistons come?”
You froze mid-chew.
She smirked. “I know that face.”
“I don’t have a face,” you mumbled.
“That’s a lie. That’s the scared face. The face you make, when you getting ready to cancel our plans ”
You snorted grabbing her lemonade. “It’s not that deep. I’ll still go”
“Mm-hmm.”
The night of the game, your hair was laid, you had a little bit of chest showing just right, and your makeup was glistening.
You didn’t say it out loud, but deep down you wanted him to see you. You weren’t even sure what would hurt more: if he looked at you and froze... or if he didn’t look at all.
The arena was chaos. Bright, loud, packed.
You let your roommate take her usual selfies, flashing her tunnel pass like she was already somebody’s wife. You stood beside her, quiet, scanning the court like it wasn’t obvious.
Then he ran out.
Ausar. Number nine. Detroit jersey. That same focused face, same wide shoulders. Same everything — except he wasn’t a kid anymore.
And neither were you.
For a second, your breath caught.
He glanced your way. Just once. But it landed like an elbow to the chest.
You didn’t wave or smile—just stared.
Unbothered.
But inside, your brain was overheating.
It was hours later, the hawks won making you and your roommate cackle pettily. She offered a double date with whatever player she was with and his teammate but you had enough mental anguish for the day.
Unknown Number: You looked good.
You stared at it for a good two minutes. Locked your phone. Unlocked it. Locked it again.
Another message.
Ausar: right just look at my message nd don’t say nun 😐
You sighed.
You: bruh what is there to say???
Ausar: thank you?? yo mad ass
You:Mad? fuck no I just don’t entertain old negative spirits tryna renter my life
Ausar: now i’m a “old negative spirit”
You trippin
You: If im trippin so be it
Ausar: Cute.
You: You still irra omg
Ausar: You still fine.
You rolled your eyes. Let it sit.
Ausar: You came to see me?
You: Don’t flatter yourself. I live near the arena, of course imma go to at least one game.
Ausar: It’s not like them niggas can play so that’s not crazy to assume
You: so? don’t insult other niggas cause i didn’t come to see you
Ausar: I miss the old days. When there wasn’t so much animosity
That’s what did it. The sheer audacity of him, to disappear from your life and pretend that it was just another Friday night. As if you were wrong for holding some kind of grudge when he was never held accountable in the first place?
You: Why? cause the old me would’ve folded immediately? jumped across the tunnel to see you?
Ausar: That’s not what I meant.
You: It’s exactly what you meant.
You liked me softer.
You liked me needing you. Sorry that shit is fried and over wit
Ausar: Nah girl, I miss just when we used to be able to talk about anything
You:You gave that option up when you moved across the country and didn’t tell me shit.
Boy fuck you
Read. No response.
You smirked bitterly.
Ausar: Fuck me?
You: Do yk how quiet it was when you left. How nobody ever asked if I was okay because everyone assumed you were the one who had it hard. How every memory I had of us started to feel like a lie once you stopped calling.
He sent a voice note. ‘1 minute 55 second voice message holy yap??’ you thought to yourself.
You waited a minute before opening it.
“I didn’t know how to take care of what we had, and chase my dreams I thought just leaving it alone would hurt less than me trying to….”
You laughed under your breath as he went on explaining about self sabotage and goals and whatever excuse he could pull. Not because it was funny, but because you didn’t believe it. The boy you always thought was perfect was just like every other man.
You: So just fuck my feelings?
Ausar: I just said I did it for you
You: Whatever the case may be, you were dead wrong.
Another pause.
Ausar: So what now?
You: now what? i take my black ass to sleep and you sit with the ache you caused and figure out if this is about me or some weird ass guilt guilt.
No reply, as per usual.
You locked your phone, tossed it face-down.
There were no tears. No breakdown.
Just clarity.
He was still the boy who left you, but you weren’t the girl who waited for him to come back.
You still cared. Sure.
But caring didn’t mean surrender.
