TYPING.. DELETING..

Sometimes I pretend I’m texting someone.

Just to feel like someone’s waiting for me.

Just to trick my loneliness into thinking

It’s loved.

I type a message, stare at it,

Then delete it like it never mattered.

Because it didn’t.

Because no one was ever on the other side.

It’s stupid, I know.

But at 2AM, even fake comfort feels real.

And silence feels heavier than ever.