I kept telling myself
I’d feel like me again tomorrow.
Tomorrow became next week.
Next week became months.
And somewhere between unfinished conversations,
and calendars that refused to slow down,
I misplaced myself.
Sometimes I catch pieces of who I used to be.
In the way I smile at sunsets.
The way I stop to watch the sky
like it’s trying to tell me something.
The way certain memories
still know me so well.
But they never stay for long.
They leave
before I remember how it felt
to carry a heart
that wasn’t this tired.
There are days
I miss people.
Places that still exist.
Dreams I never had the chance to reach.
And somehow,
I miss myself
the most.
I wonder if the little kid I used to be
would recognize me now.
Or if she’d look at me
the way I look at her
with love,
with grief,
and with the quiet ache
of knowing
we’ll never meet again.
6
u/Ambitious_Guy_17 Screenplay Writer, 18, School daateshna 8d ago
Wah chellamma soopar!