People get caught up, right? Deadlines, family, work. But by the third week, the silence felt personal.
I started replaying everything our last conversation, the way he smiled that night, how I laughed too loud at his jokes. Was that the moment I said too much?
There’s something strange about waiting for someone who has already moved on. You start bargaining with your memory, editing scenes that never needed fixing.
Then one afternoon, his name flashed on my screen. Just a simple “Hey.”
My chest tightened. Not from excitement, but clarity.
It hit me I didn’t miss him. I missed the version of me that hoped he was different.
Adenike
13 hrs agoAt first, I told myself he was just busy.
People get caught up, right? Deadlines, family, work. But by the third week, the silence felt personal.
I started replaying everything our last conversation, the way he smiled that night, how I laughed too loud at his jokes. Was that the moment I said too much?
There’s something strange about waiting for someone who has already moved on. You start bargaining with your memory, editing scenes that never needed fixing.
Then one afternoon, his name flashed on my screen. Just a simple “Hey.”
My chest tightened. Not from excitement, but clarity.
It hit me I didn’t miss him. I missed the version of me that hoped he was different.
So I typed back, “Hope you’re well.”
No dots. No questions. Just peace.