I stare at my messages, thumb hovering over Tilly’s name.
I type something.
Delete it.
Type again.
Hope you’re doing okay.
Pathetic.
I delete it again.
The truth is — I want to say I miss her. That everything reminds me of her. That I can’t breathe without thinking about her laugh.
But I can’t.
So I put my phone face-down and lean back in the chair.
The sun is setting again, burning gold over the water.
I thought coming here would help me forget. Instead, it just made me realize how much I don’t want to.
The sea outside glimmers under the moonlight.
I sit on the balcony long after Nonna went to bed, the sound of waves and cicadas filling the silence that my thoughts refuse to.
I should feel lighter here.
I should feel at peace.
But instead, my chectic thoughts swirl around bluntly refusing to give me rest.
I lean forward, resting my arms on the railing.
Somewhere under all of everything, I can still feel that ache.
That quiet, hollow part of me that wishes love doesn’t have to feel so one-sided.
Maybe that’s what growing up really is.
Learning that sometimes you love people who can’t love you back in the same way.
Romantic or not, love is cruel.
I never trusted love.
It created competition between my siblings.
It broke my parents.
It ruined my grandma.
Love is nothing like the ocean. You can’t trust it, and you can’t depend on it.
I exhale, feeling done.
I hope the next time I fall will be the last. Because I don’t think my bones can take another crash.
