The city outside was alive, bustling with people and sounds, but her room was a sanctuary of silence. She lay on her bed, surrounded by shadows that danced on the walls, each one a reminder of memories she'd rather forget. Yet, she clung to them, these echoes of what once was.
Her phone, a lifeline to the world outside, lay silent on her nightstand. She hadn't expected a message, not after all this time. But still, she checked it obsessively, hoping for a sign, a word, anything that would tell her he was thinking of her.
The clock on her wall ticked away, marking the passage of time. A year had gone by since he'd left, since she'd last heard from him. Some days, the pain felt like a fresh wound; others, it was a dull ache she'd grown accustomed to. But the longing remained, a constant companion she couldn't shake.
She got up and walked to the window, pulling back the curtains to let the moonlight in. The city below was bathed in a silver glow, beautiful and indifferent. She felt small and insignificant in the face of such vastness, her problems shrinking to nothingness.
And yet, in this moment, she felt him. Felt his absence like a physical presence, a weight that pressed down on her chest. She closed her eyes, remembering the way he'd hold her hand, the way he'd look at her.
The memory was so vivid, so real, that she almost believed he was there with her. Almost.
"Maybe it's okay to let go,"
she whispered to the darkness. But the words felt like a lie.
The night was long, the shadows deep. And in the silence, she was left with only one question:
"Was I enough?"