Some people may feel like a color
The fire they used to carry
When effort met reward
Like old friends
Who kept their promises
Now they wake
To the same routine
Same steps
But nothing blooms like it used to
And that loss
It isn’t loud
But it lingers
Some never held
What they want it most
They remember a smile from a sunny day
Under the blue sky
Like it happened yesterday
They walk beside the memory
Calling it by name, in silence
Both of them
Under the same sky
Feel the same ache
For different ghosts
But sometimes, they pause
Feel a faint warmth
In the chest
A whisper: what if…?
What if we’re still becoming?
What if we believe?
Can be rebuilt
Not found?
So they stay
Not because they know
But because they want to know
How it feels
To trust, again
And maybe
Just maybe
That’s enough
For now
Diary-Stories 