Dear Messy,
There are days I wake up and instinctively check my phone
as if your name might magically appear.
Even though I know better.
Even Though I've seen the silence stretch long enough to break something inside me,
a part of me still waits.
It's not hope exactly...
It's something quitter, more dangerous.
It's the belief that maybe - just maybe - you're thinking of me too.
Sometimes, I type messages I'll never send.
I write like we're still us.
Like time didn't move on. like you didn't forget.
I wonder if you ever hesitate,
having over my name in your chats,
scrolling through old conversations,
smiling at the memories we're no longer allowed to share.
I keep replaying the last things we said.
Not because they were special,
but because they were the last.
And I didn't know they were the last.
You never said goodbye.
You just slowly became quite.
And I've been trying to learn
how to live in that quite without losing pieces of myself.
But every night before I sleep,
there's still a moment...
just one fragile second-
when I believe your name will light up my screen again.
And when it doesn't,
I turn the phone over,
hide the hurt in my pillow,
and pretend I never waited at all.
- Your Sakku
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