The seven of us have been like family since college. Back in 2005, we met at a small university in this city, and from there our friendship grew strong, like an old tree: deep roots, wide branches.
We went through everything together — sleepless nights playing Clash of Clans, Get Rich, Vainglory, dancing on AyoDance, duets on Smule. We camped on beaches waiting for sunrise, rode motorcycles on cross-town trips singing at the top of our lungs, even celebrated Eid nights by lighting fireworks and laughing like kids.
Now, twenty years later, we’re all married. Parents. Some with two kids, some with three. We live in different neighborhoods now. But one thing hasn’t changed: we still meet up at least once or twice a year.
And one more thing hasn’t changed: him.
His name is Anton. He’s 36 now. Still good-looking, fit because he works out, has a steady job, kind and patient. If you met Anton today, you’d probably wonder why he’s still single.
We know the answer.
Sometime around 2011, Anton got into a serious relationship with a girl named Wimara. We all knew her too — she used to join us on hangouts. Sweet, smart, warm. They were so solid, everyone thought, “Oh, these two are definitely getting married.”
But in 2014, something happened, and they broke up. Anton never really told us the details. We just saw him withdraw into himself, smoking quietly on his balcony, staring at nothing.
Not long after, we heard the news: Wimara had married someone else.
From that day on, Anton changed. He never opened his heart to anyone else.
We — his seven closest friends — tried everything. His family tried even harder. We introduced him to a beautiful young doctor — he said no. To a sweet, caring nurse — no. Even to our old college friend who used to have a crush on him. Always the same answer:
“Not now. I’m not ready.”
Sometimes we’d tease him:
“What are you waiting for, Ton? Waiting for Wimara to get divorced? You’ll grow old waiting, man!”
He’d just smile faintly… and stay quiet.
We’ve all given up. Not because he can’t find someone — he’s more than good enough. But because his heart hasn’t healed. It’s as if the one person he gave his key to took it with her, and never gave it back.
Sometimes we wonder… what could make someone like Anton change his mind? Is it just a matter of time? Or does he need someone patient enough to keep knocking on that door every day until he finally opens it?
We don’t know.
What we do know is: every time we get together, Anton still shows up. He still joins our PUBG matches, still lights fireworks with us on Eid, still camps out under the stars. And every time, we hope… someday, someone will come along and help him find the happiness he lost all those years ago.
Because no one — especially someone as good as him — deserves to stay alone forever.
Photo by Kimson Doan on Unsplash
