Friday Reels

He sends me one reel every Friday. No caption. That's our entire relationship now.

His name was Josh. We were in a thing for eight months. A situationship, if I'm being honest. No label, no dates in my calendar, just a lot of late-night talks and "you're different from other girls" energy that I'm now allergic to.

When he stopped texting, I assumed that was it. But then, a Friday, 5 PM. A reel. A dog on a skateboard. No words.

I laughed. I sent a "lol." He hearted it.

The next Friday, another. A man falling off a trampoline. Same ritual. A joke, a laugh, a heart. We never spoke about anything else.

I know it's breadcrumbing. I know. I have friends. They've told me. "Babe, he's feeding you crumbs." But when you're hungry, a crumb feels like a feast.

I counted last night. Thirty-one reels. Thirty-one Fridays. A whole saved collection of small, silly proof that I still existed to him.

Then my friend Maya, half-drunk at a party, held up her phone.

"Josh sent me this."

A dog on a skateboard. The first one. Same reel. Same timestamp.

I scrolled my phone. Hers. Another friend's. Another girl from his uni.

Six of us. Same video. Same Friday.

I wasn't his routine.

I was his group chat.