I once once met a girl through Facebook, and everything began in this virtual space known as RPW — the Role Play World. It was a strange but fascinating place where people could hide behind different identities and live out stories through fictional characters. Some pretended to be celebrities, others created entirely original personas. It was a place where you could be anyone... or anything.
Within RPW, there were different types of players: BRP, which meant Boy Role Play — where someone pretended to be a boy. GRP stood for Girl Role Play. But the one I was part of… was CRP — Cross Role Play. That meant I was pretending to be the opposite gender. I acted as a guy, even though I’m a girl in real life.
That’s where I met her. At first, it was just another interaction, like many others I had before. But there was something different about her — something that drew me in. Maybe it was the way she talked, the way she understood me, or maybe I was just at a vulnerable point in my life and needed someone.
We got close. Really close. What started as simple roleplay slowly turned into late-night talks, emotional support, inside jokes, and small moments that made me feel seen. And then, I felt it — that familiar yet terrifying feeling of falling. Despite the one golden rule in RPW — “Never fall in love.” — I broke it. I didn’t mean to, but it just happened.
The feelings I had for her weren’t scripted. They weren’t fake. They were real. So real that it scared me. But the worst part was... I was never honest about who I truly was. I never told her that behind the screen, I was a girl.
I hurt her. Not just once. Not twice. I lost count. We broke up and made up more times than I can remember. Every time I thought it was over, we’d somehow find our way back to each other. And during all those cycles, I was happy — genuinely happy. She became my safe space during the pandemic. In those uncertain times, she gave me something to hold onto, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.
We built something... but it was built on a lie. She never knew the truth — that the “guy” she loved was actually a girl hiding behind a fake name, a borrowed face, and layers of guilt. I used someone else's photos just to convince her I was really male. I wanted to keep her, but I was too afraid to lose her if I told her the truth. That fear made me a coward. And for that, I regret everything.
Years passed. We grew, and we changed, but the damage had already been done. By 2022, we went our separate ways — truly this time. No more comebacks, no more second chances. I think we both realized that what we had, no matter how deep it once felt, wasn’t healthy anymore. I knew I had to let her go — for her sake, and maybe for mine too.
Even now... I still visit her RA — her real account. I don’t interact. I don’t like or comment. I just... check. I scroll through her photos, her stories, her posts. I watch her grow from afar, silently. It's stupid, I know. But I guess a part of me just wants to know that she’s doing okay. That she’s happy — even if I’m no longer part of that happiness.
Sometimes I stare at her smile and wonder if I was ever the reason behind it. Sometimes I read her captions and wonder if she’s forgotten me completely or if there’s a small part of her that still remembers what we had — even if it was all tangled in lies.
I can never bring myself to message her. I lost that right the moment I chose to lie. All I can do now is watch from a distance... and hope that someday, she finds someone who’ll love her honestly, without hiding behind a screen.
And as for me?
I carry the weight of that regret every day — not because I loved her, but because I wasn’t brave enough to love her truthfully.
rpw is boring now