The Life Paradox

I woke up on Saturday morning with a weight pressing down on my chest. The memories of yesterday—my rushed exit from college, the lie about my headache, the unfinished poem—all of it swirled in my mind like a storm I couldn't escape. I reached for my phone, and I opened my messages with Evana.

*I'm sorry for acting weirdly yesterday,* I typed, hesitating before hitting send. *Let's meet today. Ice cream? The same spot?*

I held my breath, waiting for her reply. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed.

*Sure, Benji. Let's straight up meet at the park at noon.*

Relief washed over me. I owed her an apology for acting weird yesterday, but for now, this would have to do.

---

At noon, I arrived at the park where we always met. Evana was already there, sitting on our favorite bench under the shade of a large oak tree. She looked up as I approached, her expression unreadable.

"Hey," I said, sitting down beside her.

"Hey," she replied softly.

There was a moment of silence, a heavy silence. I cleared my throat.

"I'm really sorry about yesterday," I began. "I didn't mean to worry you. I just… had a lot on my mind."

Evana nodded, her gaze fixed on the distant playground. "It's okay, Benji. I just wish you'd talk to me. You know you can, right?"

"I know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just… I don't want to burden you with my stuff."

Evana turned to me, her eyes searching mine. "You're not a burden, Benji. You never have been."

" I know but not this time. I can't tell you everything because it will ruin the surprise." I said with a grin.

Her eyes flickered. "What surprise?"

"Let's get some ice cream," I said, standing up and offering her my hand.

Evana hesitated for a moment before taking it, her hand warm in mine. We walked to the nearby ice cream parlor, the tension between us slowly easing as we fell into our usual rhythm of banter and laughter.

She asked about the surprise but finally conceded when she knew I wasn't about to reveal anything

---

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. We talked about everything and nothing, the way we always did, and for a while, I forgot about the talent show and the poem. For a while, it was just the two of us, like it had always been.

But as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, my thoughts drifted back to the next day. The talent show. My secret.

"We should probably head home now," I said reluctantly as we walked back to the bench.

Evana nodded, though there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "Yeah"

I know that Evana is still curious about the surprise. She is deliberately trying not to show it. My heart sank at the thought of the one more lie I was about to tell to her tomorrow morning to hide the same surprise.

---

Sunday morning arrived, and with it, a knot of anxiety in my stomach. I texted Evana early, making up an excuse about needing to help Mr. Thompson set up for the talent show.

*Sorry, Evana. I have to go to college early today. I'll see you at the show, okay?*

Her reply came quickly. *Okay, Benji. Good luck with whatever you're helping with. See you later.*

I sighed, guilt gnawing at me as I made my way to college. The auditorium was already buzzing with activity when I arrived, participants rehearsing their acts and stagehands setting up equipment.

I found a quiet corner backstage, my notebook clutched tightly in my hands. I flipped through the pages, reading and rereading the poem I had written for Evana. It felt inadequate, no matter how many times I read it, but it was too late to change it now.

As the hours passed, the auditorium filled with students and teachers, the air thick with anticipation. I peeked out from behind the curtain, scanning the audience for Evana. She wasn't there.

My heart sank. I kept waiting, my anxiety growing with each passing minute. Performers took the stage one after another, their talents met with applause and cheers, but still, Evana didn't show.

Finally, it was my turn. I stepped onto the stage, the spotlight blinding me as I looked out at the sea of faces. Evana wasn't there.

My hands trembled as I held the notebook, my voice shaky as I began to recite the first few lines of my poem.

*What if I never spoke?*

*What if I stayed silent, my words unbroken,*

But then I stopped. The words felt hollow without her there to hear them.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice barely audible over the murmurs of the audience. "I can't do this."

And with that, I stepped down from the stage, the notebook about to fall from my hands, as I walked away, my heart heavy with unspoken words and unanswered questions.

Where are you Evana?