Twenty One Days
Ever notice how your whole mood can shift just because of that one person? You could be having the worst day or the best day, but the moment you hear from this person, your whole face lights up. It’s that can’t-hide-it, cheek to cheek smile. The kind that makes your mom pause at dinner and ask, ‘Who are you texting?’ while you blush even harder, and try to find a response without giving away who it is making your cheeks turn pink. It’s like our brains have learned to associate their presence with joy, almost like we have conditioned ourselves to feel happy when we see them.
And when you don’t see them, it feels like someone switched off the lights in your world. You just lie there, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing and everything all at once. Work, friends, that one song you’ve been hearing on TikTok in the past week, the 10,000-step goal you’re trying to get today. They all swirl together into one huge noise. But through it all, there’s only one thing you can think about — their face, a never ending loop in your mind.
Sometimes I wish time stood still, so I could just live in this moment forever with you
Morning views from my room, which you once said was your room too
Its the first image you see when you wake up and the last visual you see before heading into another sleepless night. The time they bought you that iced coffee. The time their eyes lingered on your collarbone and you blurted, ‘What are you staring at?’ The time they made you laugh with something so silly you almost cried and couldn’t stop slapping your thighs. The time your heart raced when they said they wanted to come over for the first time. The time they played you a song that’s now permanently on your playlist. The moments that seem trivial to others but mean something to you.
Well, I’m going through that right now. It’s been twenty one days since I last saw you. I didn’t even notice until I looked at my calendar and counted back the days when we last saw each other. No wonder I’ve been feeling this way.
We text every day, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same as seeing you, feeling you near me, watching the way you smile when you see me. These past twenty one days, I’ve felt numb. Lost. Maybe it’s the stress at work, but I can’t seem to focus unless I know I’ll see you soon. I find myself waiting for your texts, which have been slower this week. It’s official, you’ve taken up permanent residence in my mind. I’m writing this now stretched across my bed, thinking of you — thinking of how, twenty one days ago, you were right here beside me. I haven’t even changed the sheets. I tell myself it’s just laziness, but really it’s because they still smell like you. Some nights, it’s the sharp hint of your Armani. Other nights, it’s the faint sweetness of your NCIG — the flavour of which I still can’t decipher, except that it’s yours.
I’ve been in a perpetual bad mood everywhere I go. Even the gym, the one place I usually feel happy to be at, feels pointless. I tried going on a run but even that doesn’t clear my head like they say it’s supposed to do. I can’t sip the latte at our favourite cafe without replaying the first time you took me there.
There is a feeling in my chest and I don’t know what it is. Twenty one days without seeing you. I don’t know what to do with myself. Is this what it means to really like someone? To crave their company like this?
Is it lust? Love? Or something entirely different? Limerence, as good friend of mine says.
If there’s one thing I want you, the reader, to take away from this, it’s that you are not alone. I’m willing to bet you’ve felt this too — at least once. And if not, how else do we explain the countless love songs about longing for that one person? The one we can’t get enough of, even when we know they might not be good for us.
As I wrote this, I put together a small playlist — songs that to me, perfectly capture this bittersweet ache. I hope you listen, and maybe share the feeling with me, of that one person who can change your mood with just their presence.
- T
