The streetlight flickers above me, casting a soft, orange glow on the wet sidewalk. I’ve been standing here for what feels like hours, but the world keeps moving around me, indifferent to what’s happening in my head. It’s a quiet street, one we used to walk down together on late nights when we couldn’t sleep, when we needed the cool air and the stillness to make sense of everything. The neon signs of the corner store buzz faintly in the distance, but the street is empty, just like everything between us feels now.
I can’t help but stare at the place where we used to stop for coffee every morning, a routine that was as much about the coffee as it was about the ritual of being together. The tiny café is closed now, its windows dark, but the memories are still so alive—our shared smiles over cups of coffee, the way you’d always steal a sip from mine, the quiet comfort of just existing beside each other.
I wish I could go back to that moment, the simplicity of it, before everything spiraled. I wish I had known how much I would need that simplicity, how much I would miss it.
I pull out my phone again, check the voicemail I left you earlier. My heart aches at the sound of my own voice, the words that should mean everything, but somehow don’t feel like enough. I said it—“I love you. I’m sorry.”
Wanna know what happened next?
Then read my new book [Me,Myself and I]
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