He went out that day not with a plan,
But because of an inner restlessness.
When you stand in the same spot for days,
It feels as if—
The ground isn't moving beneath your feet,
But rather, it is hardening.
He stood in front of a shop.
It wasn't a big shop.
But inside, people were working.
Someone was packing boxes,
Someone was writing accounts,
Someone was talking on the phone.
This busyness wasn't foreign to him—
But it felt foreign to his own life.
He stopped at the door.
Whether to enter or not—
This decision felt strangely heavy.
A simple question—
"Do you need any help?"
Just to say these words,
A pressure was building up inside his chest.
Finally, he stepped in.
The moment he entered, he felt
Like he was something extra there.
The man at the counter looked up.
A bit surprised, a bit indifferent.
He cleared his throat.
The words were getting stuck.
"Brother… do you need any workers?"
The question was very small.
But to him, it was massive.
The man looked at him for a second.
Then shook his head and said,
"Not now."
This "Not now"
Was calm, normal.
But to his ears, it sounded different.
There was no anger.
There was no insult.
Just… no need.
He nodded and walked out.
Stepping onto the street, he realized—
Rejection makes no sound.
No one screams and says—
"You are unqualified."
No one points a finger and says—
"You are lagging behind."
It's just that when there is no need for you,
You are simply left out.
He walked slowly.
The words kept spinning in his head—
"Not now."
Does not now mean when?
Next month?
Next year?
Or never?
He didn't blame himself.
But he didn't feel innocent either.
This middle-ground
Is the hardest place to be.
In the afternoon, he sat on a park bench.
The park wasn't very crowded.
Some children were playing,
Some people were busy on their phones.
A man sitting next to him was talking loudly to someone—
"Yes, it's done. I'll join tomorrow."
He didn't want to hear those words.
Yet, he heard them anyway.
He felt as if—
Life had started moving
On the bench right next to him.
And he was still just sitting there.
He looked down at his feet.
Dust had gathered on the front of his shoes.
Today, I tried—
He reminded himself of this.
Before, he used to be afraid without even trying.
Today, he had entered with fear.
Even if the result wasn't good,
Isn't this small change something?
He didn't know.
Returning home in the evening felt strange.
Today he had gone out—
But he was returning with nothing but a "Not now."
Mother didn't ask anything.
She only said,
"Will you eat?"
He said, "Yes."
These simple words
Are now the biggest part of his life.
At night, sitting alone, he thought—
Why did one small phrase
Feel so heavy?
Because he wasn't prepared for rejection?
No.
He was prepared.
But somewhere inside,
He had hoped—
That today, something would change.
It is the hope that exhausts him.
He stood before the mirror.
Looked at himself.
Does the face of a failed person look different?
No.
He looked the same as before.
But inside, a subtle crack had formed.
He thought—
Maybe success isn't something grand.
Maybe success is
Hearing this "No"
And still standing up the next day.
Today, he hasn't lost.
Nor has he won.
He just understood—
Rejection is quiet.
It doesn't scream.
It slowly takes up space.
Before sleeping, he wrote—
"Today, I wasn't needed.
Still, I am here."
Writing this line, he closed the notebook.
Whether he will go out again tomorrow—
He doesn't know.
But one thing he knows—
Unlike other days,
He hasn't completely broken down today.
For now, that is enough.