Sid & Bhavya

Two names that only ever sound right said together — Bhavarth.

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To Bhavya,

I keep coming back to this — the version of us before I made things harder than they needed to be. I know I got things wrong. I said things I shouldn't have, and I wasn't there in the way you needed, when you needed it most.

I'm not writing this to be forgiven right away. I'm writing it because you deserve to hear it plainly: I'm sorry.

Sorry for the moments I let my temper speak before my heart did. Sorry for the nights I made you doubt something that was never actually in question. You have never had to wonder if you were loved — that was always true. I just didn't always show it the way you deserved.

What I keep coming back to, underneath all of it, is how good we were. Not perfect — good. Real. Every photo below is proof of that. I don't want to lose the person who held my hand through all of it just because I stopped paying attention to what mattered.

I know it wasn't only me — we both stumbled in our own ways. But this letter is about my half of it, because I'd rather own my part fully than point at yours.

I'm asking for the chance to be better — not to erase what happened, but to build something steadier on top of it.

Always yours, learning — Sid

Everywhere we've been

A scrapbook of us — the couch, the courts, the rooftops, the quiet mornings. Proof that this was always worth fighting for.

Lazy afternoon on the yellow couch
home, on a slow afternoon
Tongue out at the sports court
court days, best days
Night under the moon
a sliver of moon, just for us
Foggy rooftop embrace
the fog rolled in, we didn't move
Golden hour rooftop
golden hour, held tight
Doorway hug
pink walls, warmer hug
Walk by the lake
the long way home, on purpose
Chin resting on shoulder, rooftop dusk
dusk, and your head on my shoulder
Painted portraits
Sid & Bhavya, badly drawn, well loved
Caps at the courts
matching energy, mismatched caps
Movie theater selfie
back row, best seats
Hugging with scarf and glasses
the softest hello
Traditional wear under the trees
dressed up, still just us
School uniform photo
where it all started
Rooftop with flowers
flowers, because you deserve them
Foggy rooftop, close
quiet nights, closer still
Sunset with city view
the city glowing, and so were we
Brick wall selfie
no plans, just each other
Park selfie under trees
sunlight through the branches
Garden cheek to cheek
still my favourite view

The best days were ordinary ones

Not the trips, not the rooftops with the whole city lit up behind us — though those helped. It was smaller than that. It was you falling asleep on my shoulder in the back of a movie theater. It was pulling silly faces at a sports court just to hear you laugh. It was walking the long way around the lake because neither of us wanted to say goodbye yet.

We were never chasing a highlight reel. We just kept showing up for each other, day after ordinary day.

That's the part I miss most — not one big moment, but hundreds of small ones stacked on top of each other until they became a whole life we were building without even noticing we were doing it.

We both got some of it wrong

Neither of us walked through this untouched. This isn't about keeping score — it's about naming it honestly, so we can actually leave it behind.

What I got wrong

I let frustration talk before I thought. I went quiet when you needed me to stay in the room. I made you feel like you had to earn reassurance that should've been automatic.

I know now that being right in an argument was never worth being distant with you afterward.

What you got wrong

You shut doors sometimes instead of pushing through them with me. You held onto hurt longer than you let on, until it came out sideways instead of straight.

We both learned the hard way that silence protects no one — it just delays the conversation we needed to have.

But somewhere in the middle of getting it wrong, we also figured out how to fix it — together, not around each other.

❤

Every hard conversation after was still a choice to stay — and that choice is worth more to me than any version of us that never had to try.

"I'd wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile." — your words, once, about us

Not the end of us

Whatever comes next, I don't want to be someone you have to brace for. I want to be the person in these photos again — the one who made you laugh with his tongue out on a sports court, who held you through the fog on a rooftop, who never once stopped choosing you.

Bhavarth was never just a name we made up for fun. It's the two of us, put together, and I still believe in what that means.

❤