“We sat in the same room today and yet felt miles apart…”

It’s strange how we’ve started talking again, after everything, but the words feel fewer… and colder. We go to the gym together, yet I feel alone — no guidance, no shared laughs, not even a bite of food passed my way anymore.

When it’s just the two of us in a room, there’s only silence. We quietly walk away into separate corners and scroll through our phones like strangers killing time. He crosses my door often on the way to the washroom, but never stops to ask what I’m doing. He walks into others’ rooms in the same house, laughing loudly, checking on them, talking about food, touching shoulders, being his old warm self with everyone else but me.

I know I’m already drowning with personal storms — family, money, responsibilities pulling at me from every side. Maybe I don’t show it enough. But a part of me still wishes for that one friend who loudly claims me as theirs, who stands with me in my worse and smiles with me in my good — someone who says, even without words: “I am here, for you.”

Today, I realised… maybe I miss not the memories… but the feeling of being someone’s person.