I sat at my window and couldn’t help but wonder: In a city of thousands people, why is it that the one person you’re trying to forget is the only one who stays on your mind? Today was supposed to be my silent day—a day for peace, quiet, and absolutely no looking back. But out of nowhere, he was there. It’s been months since we last spoke, yet the memory of our final conversation felt as fresh as a morning paper.
I looked at the space between us and realized that in my desperate attempt to help him heal, I might have just left him with new scars. I wanted to be his cure, but I ended up being a complication. There are a thousand "sorrys" I could send, but in this city, we know that some things are too broken for a quick fix. I demanded answers when he needed space, and now, all I can do is watch from the sidelines as he chases the dreams he once whispered to me in the dark.
As my circle grows smaller and the voices I used to turn to for advice fade away, I find my mind drifting back to the way he used to comfort me. People say I’m a "weakling" for missing what’s gone, and God knows I’ve tried to fill the void with every distraction this city has to offer. But maybe the real weakness isn't the missing— it’s the pretending that we don’t.
I don’t blame him for pushing me away. I was asking for the safety place when he was just trying to find his footing. So, I’ll keep watching his small wins from afar, sipping my drink, and realizing that sometimes, the best way to love someone is to let them be happy without you.
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