CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN: LEARNING TO BE ME AGAIN
The first Monday after the breakup felt strangely ordinary.
That was what surprised me most.
The sun still rose.
The hostel bell still rang.
Girls still complained about waking up early.
Teachers still gave assignments.
Students still rushed to class.
The school had not changed because my heart had.
I sat on my bed, tying my shoelaces while Gift prepared beside me.
She looked at me.
"You slept?"
"A little."
"That is better than nothing."
I smiled faintly.
"I suppose."
She watched me for a moment.
"You're different."
I looked at her.
"How?"
"You're not crying."
I laughed quietly.
"I can't cry every day."
"True."
She smiled.
Then she became serious.
"You don't have to pretend you're okay."
"I know."
"And you don't have to be okay immediately."
"I know."
I stood up.
"But I think I want to try."
"Try what?"
"Being myself again."
Gift smiled.
"Good."
We left the hostel together.
When I entered the classroom, I saw Samuel.
He was sitting in his new seat.
For a moment, my heart tightened.
Then I breathed.
I walked past him.
"Morning," he said quietly.
I stopped.
"Morning."
That was all.
No anger.
No bitterness.
No attempt to restart anything.
Just two people who had once been close and were now learning how to exist around each other.
I sat down.
Victoria came over almost immediately.
"You look better."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
Morayo appeared behind her.
"She does."
I smiled.
"You two are becoming professional observers."
Victoria laughed.
"We have been observing you for months."
"That's slightly disturbing."
They laughed.
And for the first time in a while, I laughed properly too.
It felt strange.
Almost unfamiliar.
But good.
The first lesson was Literature.
Our teacher discussed a poem about loss and resilience.
Normally, I would have enjoyed the lesson.
That morning, every word seemed to have been written directly for me.
"Sometimes," the teacher said, "people mistake loss for the end of their journey. It is not always the end. Sometimes it is simply the closing of one chapter."
I stared at my notebook.
One chapter.
The thought stayed with me.
Perhaps Samuel had been a chapter.
An important one.
A beautiful one.
A painful one.
But still only one chapter.
I wrote the sentence down.
Not because I wanted to remember the lesson.
Because I wanted to remember it for myself.
At break, I went to the canteen with Gift, Victoria and Morayo.
We sat together and talked about everything except Samuel.
It was refreshing.
Victoria complained about a teacher's impossible homework.
Morayo argued that the teacher simply enjoyed watching students suffer.
Gift laughed so hard that she nearly dropped her spoon.
I laughed too.
Then I realised something.
I had not thought about Samuel for almost twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes.
It sounded ridiculous.
But to me, it felt like progress.
After we finished eating, we walked back towards the classroom.
Daniel was standing near the corridor with some other students.
He noticed us.
"Floral."
I turned.
"Yes?"
"You dropped this."
He held out a pen.
I took it.
"Oh. Thank you."
"No problem."
He smiled and returned to his friends.
That was all.
I looked at him for a moment.
Then I continued walking.
I did not feel nervous.
I did not feel confused.
I simply felt grateful.
Daniel had never made my pain about himself.
That mattered.
During afternoon prep, I found myself enjoying schoolwork again.
I opened my Mathematics notebook and started revising.
The questions were difficult, but I refused to give up.
Samuel was several seats away.
Occasionally, I caught him looking in my direction.
I ignored it.
Not because I hated him.
Because I was trying to learn how to focus on myself.
After a while, I realised I was smiling.
I had solved a question that had troubled me for days.
Victoria noticed.
"You got it?"
"Yes!"
She leaned over.
"Show me."
I explained it.
She stared at the page.
"I don't understand anything."
I laughed.
"You're hopeless."
"Excuse me?"
Morayo joined us.
"What are you two doing?"
"Floral has suddenly become a Mathematics genius."
"I have not."
Victoria pointed at my book.
"Look at her."
Morayo laughed.
For the next few minutes, we forgot about everything else.
That evening, I returned to the hostel feeling lighter.
Gift was sitting on her bed.
"How was your day?"
"Good."
"Really?"
"Yes."
She smiled.
"I haven't heard you say that in a while."
"I know."
I sat down.
"Today was… normal."
"Normal is good."
"I think I like normal."
Gift laughed.
"Welcome back to reality."
I smiled.
Then I became quiet.
"Gift?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think I'm a bad person for feeling better?"
She looked confused.
"Why would you be?"
"Because I still care about Samuel."
"You can care about someone and still heal."
I nodded.
"I know."
"You don't owe anyone permanent sadness just because you loved them."
I smiled.
"That was deep."
"I know."
We both laughed.
Over the next few weeks, things slowly changed.
I began spending more time with Victoria and Morayo.
The friendship that had once seemed impossible now felt natural.
We studied together.
We ate together.
We complained about teachers together.
Sometimes we laughed until our stomachs hurt.
Gift and I became closer too.
Our relationship had changed completely from what it had once been.
There was no rivalry.
No awkwardness.
No silent competition.
Just friendship.
One evening, she looked at me and said, "Do you remember when we barely spoke?"
"Yes."
"And now look at us."
I smiled.
"Life is funny."
"It really is."
Samuel also changed.
He stopped trying to talk to me unnecessarily.
He gave me space.
If our eyes met, he sometimes smiled.
I would smile back.
That was enough.
I noticed that he seemed quieter than before.
Sometimes he looked as though he wanted to say something.
But he never did.
I was grateful.
I was not ready.
Maybe one day I would be.
But not yet.
Daniel became part of my everyday life in a way I barely noticed.
Not romantically.
Not dramatically.
Just naturally.
He helped with classwork when I needed it.
Sometimes I helped him too.
We argued about answers.
He made jokes during boring lessons.
He teased me whenever I complained about Mathematics.
He never mentioned Samuel unless I did.
And I almost never did.
One afternoon, we were working on an assignment.
Daniel looked at my notebook.
"You're doing this question wrong."
I looked at him.
"I am not."
"You are."
"No."
He pointed at my calculation.
"You skipped a step."
I looked carefully.
I had.
I frowned.
"Don't say anything."
He laughed.
"I wasn't going to."
"You were about to."
"Maybe."
I shook my head.
"You're annoying."
"You've said that before."
"And I'll keep saying it."
He smiled.
"Fair."
I looked at him.
There was something comforting about being around someone who did not require me to explain my emotions.
Daniel did not ask me to forget Samuel.
He did not try to become Samuel.
He simply allowed me to be Floral.
And slowly, without either of us noticing, our friendship became stronger.
One afternoon, after classes, I was walking towards the hostel when Samuel called my name.
I stopped.
He approached slowly.
"Can I talk to you?"
I nodded.
"What is it?"
He hesitated.
"I just wanted to say something."
I waited.
"I've been thinking about everything."
My heart tightened slightly.
"Okay."
"I know I hurt you."
I nodded.
"You did."
"I wish I had handled things differently."
I looked at him.
"But you can't change it."
"I know."
He looked down.
"I hope one day you can forgive me."
I smiled faintly.
"I already have."
He looked surprised.
"You have?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to carry anger forever."
He nodded.
"Thank you."
I smiled.
"But forgiveness doesn't mean going back."
His expression changed.
"I know."
I appreciated that he did not argue.
We stood quietly.
Then he said, "I'm glad you're doing better."
"I am."
"Good."
He walked away.
I watched him for a moment.
There was sadness there.
But it no longer felt like the end of my world.
That was new.
That night, I lay beneath my mosquito net.
I thought about the girl who had cried herself to sleep after Samuel broke up with her.
She had been convinced she would never be happy again.
She had believed that losing him meant losing the best part of herself.
Now, weeks later, I knew better.
I had not become the same girl I was before Samuel.
I had changed.
I had learned things.
I had experienced love.
I had experienced heartbreak.
I had learned that trusting someone did not mean ignoring your own feelings.
I had learned that communication mattered.
I had learned that sometimes people could love each other and still not be right for each other at a particular point in their lives.
Most importantly, I had learned that losing someone did not mean losing yourself.
I turned onto my side.
For the first time in a long while, I felt peaceful.
Not because I had forgotten Samuel.
Not because I had found someone else.
But because I had finally stopped waiting for my happiness to come from another person.
I had begun finding it in myself.
And perhaps that was what healing really meant.
Not becoming the person you were before the heartbreak.
But becoming someone stronger because you survived it.
I closed my eyes.
Tomorrow would bring another school day.