im.scribblingover

I took a sip of my coffee, letting the boldness settle in my chest, but it did nothing for the heaviness inside me.     Around me, life moved in warm conversations hands reaching, voices blending, laughter spilling. A couple sat across from me,     hands intertwined, lost in their own little world.  A group of friends burst into laughter,   loud, carefree, like they had never known sadness.  A man by the window stared at his phone,   expression unreadable—maybe waiting, maybe wishing.    And then there was me. At a table for one.   Sitting alone in a crowded café,   wondering if anyone else felt like this,   if someone else was faking smiles,   blinking away the weight behind their eyes.     I tapped my fingers on the table, trying to ground myself. I was here. I was breathing. And maybe, for today, that was enough.

“It was a fruitful discussion.” The facilitator announced as we waved goodbye to each other, hoping to meet everyone again tomorrow.   It was a fruitful discussion, I agree. We have exchanged a lot of great ideas. They applauded for the times I have spoken.   “You have so many great ideas.” “I love how you think.” “You are bright.”   I got a little shy, of course. But I replied with a smile. I tried to make sure that my smile would show genuineness, not boast. I want to be nice. I want to be grateful for the appreciation.   But in small moments, I found myself staring at nothing Thinking about how this day would end. Silently, I told myself, “I want to tell you how great this day is going.” “They love my ideas.” “They think I have great ideas.”   But I cannot do that anymore. You are no longer waiting for me to come home. No longer there to listen, to welcome me with open arms, to hug me tight.   You are no longer waiting. And I can no longer wish for you t...

  11:21 PM The cursor blinks back at me like it’s waiting for words I’ll never type. My hands hover over “send,” but we both know I never will. Am I still grieving? Am I still hurting? Check, check. Like an unpaid debt, like a song stuck on repeat. But here’s the thing I can’t let go the question that keeps me awake: After all the nights we whispered forever, after all the dreams we built like castles in the air, Why did you walk away? You said, "I am letting you go." "I am just hurting you." "You’ll find someone better." But I never wanted better I wanted you. Through the wreckage, through the rain, through the “for worse” before the “for better.” And maybe somewhere in another life, in a parallel universe where you stayed, you would’ve let me love you the way I still do. But this isn’t that life, is it? So I close the draft, leave the words unsent, and let the clock tick past midnight without you.  

  It was once upon a time   His eyes met mine   A five-second glance   A one-in-a-four-billion chance     He sat next to me   “Do you like coffee?”   With a sly smile, I nod   And said, “I love that”     With a book on my palm   I tried to stay calm   I knew he was looking   I knew I was blushing     He looked for a better seat   Where we could have space to meet   At that moment, I knew “For a long time, I would love you”   Our laughter filled the air   Light as a whispered prayer   Every word, a little thread   Weaving memories in my head     The days turned into weeks   Quiet walks and stolen peaks   He said, “You’re my favorite person”   I laughed, “I hope this is not just a season.”     But seasons change, don’t they?   B...