Chapter 2

The first few months at NYU were a blur of gray. New York City was supposed to be vibrant and alive, but to me, it was just a collection of tall buildings that made me feel small and alone. I went to my classes, sat in the back, and said nothing. The passion I once had for architecture was gone, replaced by a hollow ache. Every line I drew reminded me of him. Every project felt pointless.

My grades started to slip. I, who had always been a straight-A student, was now barely passing. I couldn' t focus. David' s words echoed in my head on a constant loop. Clingy. Tired of you. I need to be free.

I avoided making friends. What was the point? I didn' t trust my own judgment anymore. I had given my whole heart to someone who threw it away like trash. I built walls around myself, thick and high.

I deleted his number, blocked him on every platform, but the digital ghosts remained. Mutual friends would post pictures. There was David at a beach party in Santa Monica, beer in hand, a wide, carefree smile on his face. There he was with a group of film students, a camera slung over his shoulder, looking every bit the budding director. He looked happy. He looked free.

Every photo was a fresh stab of pain. He was living his dream while I was living in the ruins of ours.

One night, scrolling mindlessly, I saw it. A picture posted by a high school acquaintance. It was David, standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean at sunset. Next to him was a girl, her head on his shoulder. The caption read: "Finally convinced him to go on a real hike! #Malibu #BestDay."

My breath caught in my throat. I remembered a conversation from junior year.

"There' s this amazing trail I read about," I had told him, showing him my phone. "We should go hiking one weekend."

He had scoffed. "Hiking? That' s so boring, Sarah. All that walking and sweating for what? To look at some trees?"

I had dropped the subject, feeling stupid for even suggesting it.

But for this new girl, he would hike. He would stand on a cliff and watch the sunset. It wasn' t that he hated hiking. He just hadn' t wanted to do it with me.

The thought was a slow poison, seeping into every part of my consciousness. It wasn' t just that he left. It was that he was becoming a different, better person for someone else. All the things I had wanted, all the little adventures I had suggested, he was doing them now, with her.

It made me question everything. Was I really that suffocating? Was my love so much of a burden?

I thought back to all the times I had put his needs before my own. The parties I skipped because he had to study for a test. The friends I drifted away from because he didn' t like them. I had tailored my life to fit his, believing it was what you did when you loved someone. I had made myself smaller to make him feel bigger.

And he still left.

Lying in my dorm bed, staring at the ceiling, I felt a deep, burning shame. Not just for being left, but for how much of myself I had lost along the way. I wasn' t just Sarah Miller. For years, I had been "David' s girlfriend." It was my primary identity.

Now, without him, who was I?

I didn' t have an answer. I was just a ghost haunting a life that was supposed to be mine.