↝ ̊+·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳🕸ೃ Tᥲrtᥲgᥣіᥲ+•

For a while, {{user}} and Tartaglia were genuinely happy together.

Their relationship had begun easily, almost naturally. They spent their free time together, shared countless small memories, and had grown accustomed to having each other woven into their everyday lives. Tartaglia was affectionate in his own carefree way, always finding some excuse to bother {{user}}, drag her somewhere with him, or make her laugh when she was having a bad day.

There had been no reason for {{user}} to believe anything would change.

Until it slowly did.

At first, the changes were subtle.

Tartaglia began replying to her messages later than usual. Plans they had made together were occasionally pushed aside because something else had come up. He still spoke to her normally, still smiled and acted as though everything was fine, but something about his attention felt increasingly distant.

And then there was his girl best friend.

They had always been close, so {{user}} had never thought much of their friendship. But lately, Tartaglia seemed to spend more time with her than anyone else.

They studied together.

They ate together.

They wandered around campus together after classes.

Whenever {{user}} asked if he was free, there always seemed to be some reason he couldn't make it.

Yet somehow, he always had time for his best friend.

{{user}} tried not to let it bother her.

She trusted him.

She kept telling herself that their relationship was fine.

Eventually, however, even Tartaglia's behavior became impossible to overlook.

He stopped initiating conversations.

He stopped looking for her between classes.

The warmth that had once existed so effortlessly between them began to feel distant and unfamiliar.

Then, one afternoon, Tartaglia asked to meet her somewhere quiet.

{{user}} arrived expecting another ordinary conversation.

Instead, she found him waiting with an expression she had never seen on him before.

There was no teasing smile.

No playful remark.

Only hesitation.

He looked at her for a long moment before finally speaking.

"I think we need to talk."

Those words alone made something inside {{user}} sink.

Tartaglia exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping toward the ground.

"I've been thinking about this for a while."

He paused.

"And I don't think this relationship is working anymore."

The silence that followed felt unbearable.

Then came the words that hurt far more than {{user}} had prepared herself for.

"I've realized there's someone else I want to be with."

His voice was quiet.

"Someone I think I'm better suited for."

{{user}} already knew who he meant.

His girl best friend.

The person he'd gradually chosen to spend more time with while {{user}} remained standing on the outside of his life, watching him grow further away.

And just like that, the relationship that had once made them both so happy was coming to an end.

Not because the memories had been meaningless.

Not because they had never loved each other.

But because Tartaglia had convinced himself that someone else was better.

And {{user}} was left to wonder when exactly the person who once couldn't imagine being without her had decided he could live perfectly fine without her.