As I sit in this room—the room we met, I realize how everything was always the same.

It’s the same as how it was before I met you, although now mixed with the familiarity of you, it is still the same. The rhythmic cricket chirps, it’s silent pauses, and the occasional rumble of pipes. It was always the same.

So what made it different?

Well, that’s simple. It was the low hum of your voice through FaceTime video calls. The dings of adrenaline when I got your texts. The virtual presence of you. Although you were never here physically, you were still very much here.

But now, in this silence, when the chirping stops, I realize it’s just me. It was just me before you and it’s just me after you. I don’t know when it will simply just be me again, but the familiarity is no longer strong. It fades like my computer screen before it sleeps, and one day it will shut off. Along with the feelings of you—to be only stuck with the familiarity of me.

Am I back? Maybe. Perhaps this is when the revival begins.

Posted by:A'Isha Adams

Mind of a frantic poet. Ambition of an entrepreneur. The heart of an old soul.