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?

After the breakup, I spiraled into a prolonged period of self-doubt. It felt like I was haunted, constantly searching within myself for the reasons behind our failed relationship. Was I not gentle or considerate enough? Did I not care for him as much as I should have? Was it because I hadn't visited him in a while, letting things grow cold between us? Or maybe our arguments just wore him out? These thoughts circled incessantly in my mind, building up until they became a crushing weight.

I lost my appetite, going from three meals a day to barely finishing one, which tasted like cardboard anyway. Sleep eluded me at night. Every time I closed my eyes, memories of Oscar flooded my mind.

I recalled that Thanksgiving dinner after our final exams. Oscar, our class president, handed a bouquet to our teacher amidst a round of applause. Then, holding another bouquet of roses, he turned and slowly walked toward me. He handed me the vibrant red roses, his deep gaze locked on mine, and asked, "Arianna, would you like to be with me?"

Time and again, my pillow was soaked with tears. He wielded the sharpest knife, forcing me to endure the agony of our shared memories. In just a month, I lost 33 pounds. I stood before the mirror, staring at my haggard reflection. My cheeks were slightly sunken, my eyes bloodshot, and my eyelids swollen like walnuts.

My best friend, Skylar, couldn't bear to watch anymore and took me to see a psychologist. The diagnosis was clear: moderate depression.

I stumbled out of the clinic room, feeling dazed, as the doctor called my best friend, Skylar, back inside. I leaned against the wall outside and heard the doctor's serious voice filtering through the door:

"Her condition isn't looking good. The test results suggest she's already showing signs of suicidal tendencies. You need to keep a close eye on her."

"And also, try to contact her boyfriend. It would be ideal if he could come and assist with her treatment. Emotional wounds often need emotional healing."

A flicker of hope sparked within me. If he knew what I was going through, would he come to support me through this? Was there still a chance for us?

Skylar emerged from the clinic, saying she needed to use the restroom. I knew she intended to call Oscar without me overhearing. Quietly, I followed her to the stairwell.

She dialed several times before Oscar finally picked up. Even though Skylar usually had a fiery temper, she was keeping her cool and speaking gently for my sake.

"Arianna really isn't doing well right now. The doctor confirmed it's depression, and she needs you to be involved in the treatment process."

"Please, think about the four years you shared and try to help her."

I couldn't hear what he said on the other end, but whatever it was, it upset her.

"What do you mean she's tricking you? How could this possibly be a trick?"

"Hello? Hello?! Oscar, you jerk, you absolute bastard!"

As she hung up the phone, cursing, she turned and saw me watching her. Our eyes met, and we both began to tear up.

She rushed forward and wrapped me in a hug.

"It's okay, there's no way I'm letting you go through this alone! I'm right here with you!"

"Don't cry, don't cry. We're going to get through this!"