𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗔𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗔𝗯𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲

Your absence has become something I carry with me, even on days when I try not to think about it. I never really noticed how much of my life had started revolving around you until I found myself looking for you in places where you weren't. Somewhere along the way, your presence became part of my routine, and now I don't quite know what to do with the silence you leave behind. It's strange how someone can become so familiar that even their absence feels like a disruption to everything. I find myself waiting for the smallest things, a message, a passing thought, a reason to believe that I'm still somewhere in your mind. Perhaps that's what scares me most, knowing how easily I have grown accustomed to having you around, while never knowing if you have grown just as accustomed to having me.

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I wonder when missing someone became such a constant part of my days. There are moments when I want to tell you about something insignificant, only to remember that I no longer have the same place in your life to do so. And I hate that I still look forward to things that may never happen, that part of me that continues to leave room for you even when I know I should be learning to live without expecting your return. I don’t think you ever intended to become this much of my world, just as I never intended to make you such a significant part of mine. But somehow, here I am, trying to make sense of a life that still moves forward, even when a part of me is waiting for something that isn’t coming.