Beneath the Cherry Blossoms, I Let You Be

The petals fall like quiet whispers, drifting past my window. I stand in the sun, my pigtails catching the light, and feel the weight of the city's noise finally dissolve.

He is late again. In another life, I would have been chasing him through the crowded streets, demanding answers to a question he hasn't even asked himself yet. But today, the blossoms teach me a different truth: flowers do not pull themselves toward the sun; they simply open when the warmth arrives.

I smile at my own reflection in the glass, feeling a gentle calm settle over my chest. I don't need to fix this moment or force his presence. I just breathe, I just wait. If he is meant to walk through that door, he will find me here, whole and unbothered by his absence.

Editor: The Tea Room