4th of January

4th of January, 2024.

Just booked my tickets to the god-forsaken Australia.

Got the chance to study in THE UNIVERSITY OF MELBOURNE.

Yay!

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5th of January, 2024

Ugh, I am feeling frustrated.

During breakfast mom lectured me. Again.

Said I’m intelligent, so why Melbourne. Why not Oxford or Harvard?

Whatever.

She’ll get over it.

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7th of January, 2024

Logged into my account (that my dad still checks).

Browsed the University’s website.

There was a section for juniors seeking general advice from seniors.

Found a guy, he seemed charming, though he is from the arts faculty.

Anyways, he seemed nice.

Let me call him Mr. Artist.

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14th of February, 2024

The flight literally took forever to take off.

I wasn’t feeling too good while it took off, either.

And the soggy sandwich definitely did not help my appetite.

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15th of February, 2024

Landed.

I’m freezing.

I am finally gonna meet Mr. Artist.

So, cheers to that.

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22nd of February, 2024

It’s been a week.

Class starts today.

Lounged around the campus.

It’s nice.

Haven’t seen ‘Mr. Artist’ yet.

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24th of February, 2024

The Kenneth Myer Building, a sleek, high-tech structure that rises like a glass monolith behind Royal Parade.

It’s quiet, techy background sounds — fingers tapping keyboards, faint buzzing of lab fridges, murmur of scientific discussion.

The mood; clinical but oddly poetic — so much effort chasing something invisible inside the skull.

The people; Intense students, caffeine addicts, brilliant but awkward supervisors.

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26th of February, 2024

Wake up.

Get attacked by the water.

Skip breakfast.

Sprint to class.

Listen to the not-understandable lecture the professor gives.

Engulf lunch.

Run back to the dorm with dozens of stones(lifeless and heavy books).

Study-sleep on the study table.

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5th of March, 2024

Saw him today at John Medley.

Real, alive, not just pixels anymore.

Taller than I imagined.

He laughed.

He’s lanky.

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12th of March, 2024

Gods. Baillieu smelled like paper and pressure.

Students hunched like commas.

Found a seat near the window.

He sat two seats down. Smelled like soap and ink.

He kept tapping his pencil.

Hated the sound. Until he stopped.

Then I missed it.

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15th of March, 2024

Just another day in the library.

He sat across the long table.

No talking.

Just glances.

He scribbled in a sketchbook.

Studied neurons. Somehow, it felt serene.

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17th of March, 2024

Nearly got hit crossing Lygon.

He pulled me back by my sleeve.

“Melbourne traffic waits for no one.”

Muttered thanks.

He winked.

Then vanished into the café.

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18th of March, 2024

Slept two hours.

Dreamt I failed everything.

Woke up and studied more.

They say grades don’t define you.

I don’t believe them.

Grades are the only thing anyone ever asks about.

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21th of March, 2024

We reached for the last veggie wrap at Union House. He gave it to me with a bow. “For the science of neurons.” I laughed. He grinned. His eyes lingered.

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27th of March, 2024

Rain started suddenly.

Ran under the stone arch by Old Arts.

He was already there.

We nodded.

That’s it.

Still, my heart did something weird.

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3rd of March, 2024

Saw him today.

He wasn’t alone.

A girl—dark hair, loud laugh.

She touched his shoulder like she’s done it a hundred times.

Looked away before he noticed.

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5th of April, 2024

They were walking toward the tram.

She was saying something.

He laughed, looked lighter.

Felt like background noise in a story I thought I was part of.

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19th of April, 2024

Escaped him for a few days. But not today

He said, “I feel like I know your face better than your name.”

I said, “Rhea.”

He smiled. “Leo.”

Like we hadn’t already known.

Like we were starting over.

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27th of April, 2024.

We sat on the grass outside Old Arts.

Silence. Not awkward. Just… waiting.

He handed me a muffin. “No mayo,” he said.

Nearly laughed.

Nearly cried.

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1st of May, 2024

He showed me a sketch — it looked like a city skyline inside a brain.

“Inspired by you,” he said.

I didn’t breathe for seven whole seconds.

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9th of April, 2024

We talked.

Just small things.

Weather.

Classes.

He made a joke about brains needing coffee.

Laughed. Too hard.

Forgot how it felt to laugh with him.

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21th of April, 2024

Today he asked for my number.

Casually, like it wasn’t everything.

“So I can send you weird sketches. Or memes.”

Gave it to him.

My hands shook.

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26th of April, 2024

He texted me at midnight:

Do brains dream of art?

I replied:

Only the broken ones.

He said:

Then ours must be best friends.

What is he doing to me!?

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12th of June, 2024

My friend asked if we’re a thing.

Said, “No.”

She raised a brow.

Didn’t explain.

Some stories bloom in silence before they dare say their name.

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17th of June, 2024

Watched him laugh with that girl.

Felt sick.

Came home, tried to read.

Couldn't.

He sent a meme.

I laughed. Then cried. Because it was still him thinking of me.

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21th of June, 2024

Call ended.

Cried.

Not because my parents were cruel—because they weren’t anything.

No warmth.

No care.

Just reports.

Expectations.

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26th of June, 2024

He calls me “brain girl.”

It's like a nickname.

Like a crown.

Hated it at first.

Now I replay it in my head on loop.

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28th of June, 2024

He saw me outside Baillieu.

Gave me the softest smile — no teeth, no pressure.

Just… I see you.

My chest tore open like paper.

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2nd of July, 2024, 2024

Tried to walk away.

He followed. Gently. Not demanding.

“Did I do something?” he asked.

Said, “No.”

But couldn’t look him in the eye.

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7th of July, 2024

Exams next week.

Sleep-deprived.

Coffee-dependent.

Every neuron is on fire. Leo said, “Chill. It’s just finals.”

I wanted to scream. Instead, I said, “Must be nice. You just draw.”

At night I texted:

Sorry.

He replied:

No worries. You’re under pressure. I get it.

Why is he always so warm when I deserve cold?

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23th of July, 2024

Exams ended.

Dragged myself to Baillieu, half-dead, giant coffee in hand.

He looked up, smiled. “Preparing for a coma?”

I almost cried.

Instead, I smiled back. Finally.

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30th of July, 2024

Exhausted from pretending I’m okay.

He’s so effortlessly kind — it breaks me.

Wish I didn’t feel this deeply.

Wish I didn’t love someone this gently.

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2nd of August

He asked if I still skip lunch.

Said, “Sometimes.”

He handed me half his wrap. “You’re predictable.”

Wanted to say, “So are you.”

But I liked this game.

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6th of August, 2024

Three lab reports.

Two presentations.

One grade drop.

My brain’s crumbling under its own syllabus.

I don’t want to be brilliant.

I just want to be enough.

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9th of August

Avoided the café today.

Miss him like he’s gone,

even though he’s not mine to miss.

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13th of August, 2024

Study where he won’t go.

Walk different paths.

Changed my playlist.

It’s ridiculous how much I’m rearranging my life to avoid a boy and a maybe.

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17th of August, 2024

She leaned her head on his shoulder outside Old Arts.

I crossed the street before they could see me.

Pathetic, I know. But heartbreak isn’t logical.

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23rd of July, 2024

He sent me a photo of his sketch — a neuron with tangled roots.

Wrote, Felt like you.

Stared at it for ten minutes.

Deleted my reply and cried.

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27th of July, 2024

She sat beside him in the student lounge.

Their knees touched.

He didn’t move.

Told myself it meant nothing.

Then cried like it meant everything.

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28th of August, 2024

I miss him.

Not just who he is.

Who I was around him. Softer. Braver.

Now I just feel like a ghost in my own body.

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30th of August

He texted: Where’ve you been hiding?

I didn’t reply. What would I say?

Sorry, I’m busy trying not to exist where you’re happy.

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7th of September. 2024

He asked me to the uni ball.

Just like that.

I smiled and said “I can’t dance.”

He replied instantly.

“Then I’ll just stand beside you.”

Like it was the simplest thing.

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11th of september, 2024

The Wilson Hall.

The music was too loud.

My heels hurt.

I almost left.

Then he found me.

Took my hand.

Didn’t dance.

Just stood beside me.

Like he promised.

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19th of September, 2024

Fell off the library ladder.

Sprained my leg.

He carried me out like it was a rom-com.

At the hospital, I cried.

He said, “Next time, just ask me to reach it.”

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21th September, 2024

He calls like it’s a prescription.

Five doses daily.

Might be why I’m healing faster.

Or why I’m hurting slower.

Either way, he makes it easier to breathe.

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29th September, 2024

One week.

Still limping.

No stairs.

No running.

But I made it to class.

Stand in one hand.

Sketch in the other.

He leaves one on my desk daily.

That boy is dangerous.

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1st of October, 2024

They said, “You sound tired.”

I said, “Yeah, it’s exhausting pretending I’m okay.”

They laughed.

I didn’t.

That’s the difference between us — they hear sarcasm.

I’m just telling the truth creatively.

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5th of October, 2024

Was helping a classmate in Baillieu.

Explaining neural pathways.

My hair fell on his shoulder.

Accident.

I looked up.

Leo saw.

He glared.

Left.

Didn’t say a word.

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13th of October, 2024

He asked, “When was the last time you ate something green?”

I laughed.

Said, “Stress is a vegetable, right?”

He didn’t laugh.

Just bought me a salad.

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9th of October, 2024

I cried on the Baillieu roof.

Everything cracked.

He found me — said nothing.

Just sat, knees touching mine.

Then handed me a sketch.

A heart. Stitched, not broken.

Like me.

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17th of October, 2024

Found out she’s two years above him.

Mentor. Not a girlfriend.

Just like that — all the nights I cried over nothing.

I should feel relieved.

Mostly, I just feel tired.

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18th of October, 2024

He said, “She’s my cousin. Two years older.”

I blinked.

He grinned.

“Were you… jealous?”

I choked on my coffee.

He laughed.

I didn’t answer.

Mostly because — maybe.

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26th of October, 2024

We studied together.

His notes were a mess.

Mine were color-coded.

He called me an “overachiever.”

I called him “chaotic genius.”

He smiled like he’d already passed.

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29th of October, 2024

We walked out together.

He said, “Easy, right?”

I said, “Let’s not jinx it.”

He nudged my shoulder.

“I already did. I sat next to you.”

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5th of November, 2024

He knew I had a headache today.

Didn’t ask.

Just handed me water and meds also played Conan Gray in one earbud.

I didn’t thank him.

I guess he didn’t need it.

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9th of November, 2024

Lygon Street café.

He ordered hazelnut for me.

I didn’t tell him he got it right.

He smiled over his cup.

Melbourne was grey.

His eyes weren’t.

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16th of November, 2024

He fell asleep mid-episode.

Head on my shoulder.

Breathing slow.

For once, he needed someone.

And it was enough.

That… felt bigger than anything he’s ever said.

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26th of November, 2024

Everyone’s talking about resolutions.

I just want peace.

Less noise in my head.

More coffee.

Less pretending.

And maybe—just maybe—if the universe is kind—

Him, still beside me.

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9th of December, 20254

He signed us up for the New Year’s dance performance.

Didn’t ask.

Just smirked.

“You’ll be fine.”

I can’t dance.

I told him.

He said, “Then we’ll just stand rhythmically.”

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19th of December, 2024

We practiced in an old rehearsal room,

Elisabeth Murdoch Building.

Dusty mirrors.

Creaking floor.

Just us.

His hand found mine again.

I told myself it was choreography.

It never felt like that.

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31st of December, 2024

We danced in Wilson Hall tonight.

Not flawlessly.

But together.

I stumbled once.

He held tighter.

No one noticed.

Except him.

And maybe me.

Because for once, I didn’t care.

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1st of December, 2025

New year.

No resolutions.

Just standing beside him under a sky full of fireworks.

Our hands didn’t touch.

But they almost did.

And honestly, that was enough for now.

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5th of January, 2025

The new year glow didn’t last.

Deadlines returned like ghosts.

Three assignments.

No time.

No energy.

Leo asked what’s wrong.

I smiled.

He believed it.

That’s how tired I am.

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9th of January, 2025

We studied in the Baillieu Library basement, where the air feels like old books and anxiety.

He sketched neurons for me.

I tested him on 20th-century art.

We survived. Together.

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13th of January, 2025

Didn’t sleep for 3 days.

Exam ended.

I woke up on the infirmary cot.

Leo was there.

Crossed arms.

Red eyes.

“Three nights, Rhea? Seriously?”

I whispered, “Did I pass out?”

He said, “Yeah. Right into me. Idiot.”

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15th of January, 2025

Turns out not sleeping wrecks you.

Dizzy, shaky — like a fever without heat.

He brought food.

Said he needed to see me eat for his peace of mind.

My cheeks burned hotter than any fever.

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17th of January, 2025

Finally. No longer a shaky leaf. Nice—okay, maybe not. Someone told me I was SO out of shape. Said I needed to hit the gym. Went there—with him—NOT a good idea. There’s this girl, toned skin, and she has that; linear jawline, cheekbones that could cut diamonds. She was running on the treadmill, how fast? Probably 7 mphs? Her boyfriend came by. They made out. While working out. She’s her. I walked out. He saw the bewildered look on my face. Laughed.

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19th of January, 2025

Woke up.

Three texts on my phone.

“Meet me near The Royal Botanic Gardens.”

“We’re punting.”

“Come.”

I did.

I think I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t better than most things I’ve ever tried.

He was soaked. So was I. The breeze hit us. It was supposed to be cold. It wasn’t. Not at all.

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24th of January, 2025

And then it hit me.

I was having too much fun.

The call came.

Asked about the new Instagram story.

Disappointed.

But the funniest thing is—I didn’t react the usual way.

I baked 16 cookies with cute little marshmallows on the top.

Updated my story.

Thought about it.

I really changed, didn’t I?

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4th of February, 2025

It's scorching hot outside.

The air conditioner in my room died.

I called the facilities department, they said it should be fixed by tomorrow.|

Went to the gymnasium because students could live here, and teachers wouldn't notice(bonus: The air conditioner)

Leo walked in.

I didn't even notice until he pushed down my laptop monitor.

Gods.

He has the entire set of Kardashian Crumbl Cookies.

I asked, "Any for me?"

He answered, "Saw your Instagram story. Seems like you like cookies."

I smiled. Truly smiled.

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31st of January, 2025

He said, “Let's grab Dinner”

Said, “Sure”

We shared noodles.

He wiped sauce from my lips with his thumb, but didn’t wipe that sauce off from his

hand.

NOT. A. DATE.

He paid.

Still not a date.

Right?

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7th of February , 2025

It started as mist.

February rain — soft, shy, like it wasn’t sure if it should be here.

We didn’t move.

Too late to run, too early to care.

He looked up.

“Melbourne’s dramatic,” he said.

I looked at him instead.

No umbrella.

No panic.

Just his sleeve brushing mine and the rain slowly darkening his hoodie.

It should’ve been uncomfortable.

It wasn’t.

He said, “Want to wait it out?”

I nodded.

Didn’t speak.

Because if I did, something real might fall out of me too.

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13th of February, 2025

It was past midnight.

The Baillieu lights dimmed, soft like a whisper.

We were the only ones left.

His laugh faded, and he just... looked at me.

Too long.

He said, “Can I tell you something?”

My heart tripped.

He opened his mouth—

Then shook his head.

“Never mind. You’re tired.”

I was.

But I wasn’t too tired to hear it.

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19th of February, 2025

We walked back late after studying.

Quiet night.

Even the campus felt asleep.

Outside my dorm, we paused.

Streetlight caught his face — soft, golden.

I almost said it.

He almost did too.

We didn’t move.

We didn’t speak.

But something passed between us —

like air thick with meaning.

He stepped closer.

Just slightly.

Enough to feel it.

Enough to miss it when he stepped back.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered.

I nodded.

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1st of March, 2025

We were sitting outside the Baillieu, where everything started, according to me.

Just finished the exams.

Too tired to pretend anymore.

He looked at me like he was carrying something too long.

He said, “I like you. You know that, right?”

No metaphor.

No sketches.

No shield.

Just devotion.

Didn’t answer right away.

Didn’t need to.

Cause he already knows, so do I.

So I leaned my head on his shoulder.

And he let it stay there.

We didn’t call it love.

But it felt like something built to last.

Something slow.

Something real.

Something we’d keep choosing—quietly, again and again.