The day Oscar ended things so abruptly feels like a distant memory.

Overnight, he blocked me on every platform where we used to communicate.

Within a month, I lost over 20 pounds.

I sank into such a deep depression that I even contemplated cutting my wrists.

Until my best friend, Skylar, jolted me back to reality with a fierce slap:

"I was afraid you'd be upset, so I never dared to tell you.

"You two broke up less than a week ago, and he's already parading his new girlfriend on Facebook!

"You're here contemplating hurting yourself, and he's posting about feeling sorry for her skin condition!

"You can't throw your life away over a guy like this!"

Five years later, Oscar and I crossed paths again after a long separation.

He pushed a crumpled piece of paper into my hand:

It was the reconciliation note I had given him when I loved him the most.

He looked at me with intense, unreadable eyes:

"You once said that no matter when, I could redeem this.

"Does it still count?"

---

The late-night breeze grazed my stiff cheeks.

I stood frozen on the balcony of my dorm, persistently dialing his number.

In the hour since Oscar announced the breakup, I had called him 58 times.

This time, he finally picked up.

His voice on the line was laced with frustration and impatience.

"Stop calling. I've already explained everything on WhatsApp.

"We're just not right for each other. Let's end this."

My cold hand clenched the phone tightly, my voice choked with emotion:

"Why? We were always so good together."

Just two months ago, when he was hospitalized for an appendectomy, I instinctively tried to sign the consent form, only to be reminded by the doctor that only family could sign.

At that time, as he took the pen and signed his name, I noticed a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He held my hand and whispered confidently:

"Soon, we'll be getting married."

Four years of long-distance love, traveling back and forth between cities.

We had saved a thick stack of bus tickets.

Day after day, night after night, we poured our hearts out over the phone.

We were finally nearing graduation, with the promise of a future together.

I never got the proposal I dreamed of.

Instead, all I received was the cold announcement of our breakup.

On the other end of the phone, he remained silent and unresponsive.

I finally broke down, unable to hold back the flood of tears.

Warm tears streamed relentlessly down my cheeks.

Until my sobs grew hoarse.

His indifferent, tired voice cut through my heart:

"Do you know that with all your crying right now, all I hear is noise?"

I stood frozen.

Holding onto the phone that had just been disconnected.

At that moment, the world fell silent.

That night, sleep was out of reach.

Tears streamed down my face as I lay curled in bed, feverishly typing what felt like an endless stream of messages to him. Each word stripped away another layer of my pride and dignity, every sentence a desperate plea to salvage the four years we had spent together.

My phone was my lifeline, held tightly like a drowning person clutching a life preserver, terrified of missing even the faintest response from him.

At 4:30 in the morning, when the world was still shrouded in darkness, his reply finally arrived.

"Stop sending messages. I've blocked you."

An ominous red exclamation mark appeared next to my latest message. In a swift and decisive act, he cut off every line of communication between us. WhatsApp, phone calls, emails—every connection severed and discarded.

Someone I had loved for four years had closed every door that led to him, vanishing entirely from my life.

When Skylar found out about our breakup, she hugged me tightly, visibly frustrated as she ground her teeth.

"This is like a soap opera breakup!" she exclaimed. "Nine times out of ten, it means he's found someone else!"

I shook my head, speaking with certainty. "No, that's not him. It's probably the distance; he just got tired."

Oscar has always been strikingly handsome, which attracted many beautiful women over the past four years. Yet, he always firmly turned them down. If he were inclined to stray, he wouldn't have waited four years to make a move.

Even the day before he broke up with me, he was still sending me the usual "good morning" and "good night" messages on WhatsApp. I naively held onto the hope that he was one of the rare few exceptions.

Skylar looked at me with concern, seemingly wanting to say more, but in the end, she just let out a resigned sigh.

In the days following our breakup, I couldn't let go. I reached out to all our mutual friends, trying to gather any news about Oscar. However, they seemed hesitant, hinting that Oscar had told them not to mention him to me. He cut all our connections abruptly, leaving me no time to adjust.

Standing amid the wreckage of our relationship, all I had was an unsatisfying conclusion. Yet, he wouldn't even tell me why we weren't right for each other. If we were truly incompatible, why hadn't it come up once over the past four years?