Every morning, the world reset…
and so did he.
But not her.
She woke up with the same memories stitched into her heart —
his smile,
his voice,
the way he said her name as if it was something sacred.
But every new sunrise made him a stranger again.
She would find him in the same place each day, standing under the old banyan tree near the college gate, sunlight caught in his hair like fate was framing him just for her.
And every day, her heart did the same foolish thing—
it chose him.
“Hi,” she said, pretending her voice didn’t tremble.
As if she hadn’t said those same letters a hundred times before.
As if she hadn’t fallen for the way he looked at her a hundred times before.
As if this was the first time, not the hundredth heartbreak.
He blinked, smiled back, unaware that yesterday they had talked for hours, unaware that he had laughed with her, unaware that he had once confessed, “I think I’m falling for you.”
And then midnight stole it all.
She tried once—just once—to stop herself from loving him:
She ignored him, avoided him, walked past him.
But her chest felt like it was collapsing, as if she had forgotten how to breathe without him.
On that day, she cried until her pillow was wet, whispering,
“I can’t do this. I can’t love someone who forgets me. I can’t keep falling alone.”
But the next morning, she still woke up loving him.
That was the curse.
Some days, she let herself get close to him:
talking, laughing, touching the fingertips she knew by heart.
And on those evenings, she wished time would break for her, just once—
let him stay,
let him remember,
let her keep him.
But at 11:59 PM… her world blurred.
At 12:00 AM… he disappeared from her memories, but not from her heart.
She whispered his name into the darkness.
The darkness whispered nothing back.
One night, before the world folded into another loop, she held his hand.
He didn’t know why she was shaking.
He didn’t know she was saying goodbye for the hundredth time.
He didn’t know she was memorizing him again—
the warmth of his palm,
the line of his jaw,
the softness in his eyes that he himself didn’t know he had.
She wanted to tell him:
“I’ve loved you every day, in every loop, in every version of this world.”
But she didn’t.
He wouldn’t remember.
But she would never forget.
And when the clock struck twelve, she watched everything she loved about him shatter into yesterday…
only for her heart to rebuild him again tomorrow.
