Presence

Yeah, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. How we move through life like there’s always time. Like the people we care about are just gonna be there forever. Like there’s always gonna be another day to call, another time to pull up, another chance to say what’s really on your chest. But truth is, it don’t work like that. Someone you love could be here one minute and gone the next. And that’s what rattles me. The suddenness of it. The finality. No heads up, no slow fade, just… gone.

It’s mad how we carry on like time is guaranteed. Life gets busy, obviously. You’re working, you're studying, you’re tired and a lot of things tend to pile up. You tell yourself you’ll message them later. That you’ll check in next week. That they know you care. And maybe they do. But care without action just feels like silence after a while. And silence has this way of turning into distance before you even notice.

You ever had someone pop into your mind, and instead of acting on it, you just leave it? Like, I’ll hit them up later. And then later never comes. And the next time their name comes up, it’s in a conversation you weren’t ready for. One of those that leaves your chest tight, like you’re underwater. Because now you don’t get the chance to say anything. You don’t get to ask how they really were. You don’t get to laugh with them again or roll your eyes at their stories or hear their voice one more time. That’s it. That moment you kept putting off? It never comes.

We love people. But sometimes we love them too casually. Like they’ll always be there. And it’s not until they’re not that you realise how little you actually said. How little you did. How many “I’ll call you back”s and “soon come”s you let pile up. And now all that’s left is silence. Old photos. Voice notes. Memories that show up uninvited. And you sit with it, knowing deep down, you could’ve done more.

You stop calling, they stop texting, both of you probably miss each other but no one says anything. And then one day you find out they’re gone. And your brain scrambles to remember the last thing you said. The last proper link up. And whether they knew you still cared.

We act like people are permanent. Like we’ve got all these extra chances saved up somewhere. But really, all we’ve got is now. The people in your life, the ones you love, they’re not promised tomorrow. Neither are you. And there’s something scary and humbling about that. Knowing that life don’t wait. It doesn’t ask if you’re ready. It just moves. And you’re either part of the moment or you’re watching it fade into something you can’t get back.

Someone you love could disappear, just like that. No warning. No explanation. Just an empty spot where there used to be a big presence. And all you’re left with is everything unsaid. Everything you should’ve done. Everything you could have done. Everything you'll never get the chance to do. Everything you’ll never get to say again.