MISS YOUR FACE - NOAH SEBASTIAN

004

After Noah and I wrapped up our FaceTime call, a sense of contentment lingered in the air. I closed my notebook with the lyrics, feeling inspired and grateful for our renewed connection. As I settled into bed that night, thoughts of our upcoming collaboration and the song we were crafting together played like a gentle lullaby in my mind.

The next morning, I woke up with a smile, ready to tackle the day ahead. Just as I was about to get ready, my phone buzzed with a message from Ryan.

"Hey Val, I'm really sorry, but I have to cancel our plans for today. Something urgent came up at work. Can we raincheck?"

I sighed softly, disappointment tugging at my heart. Despite the pang of letdown, I understood that work sometimes took precedence. I quickly typed back, "No worries, Ryan. Take care of what you need to. We can reschedule. Let me know when you're free."

As I set my phone down, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of loneliness. The sudden change of plans left me with unexpected free time, and my thoughts drifted back to the song Noah and I had discussed the previous day. Without hesitation, I picked up my guitar and began strumming some melodies, letting the music soothe my disappointment.

Lost in the rhythm, I found myself humming the lyrics softly. Hours passed in a blur as I worked on the song, refining the melody and tweaking the lyrics until they resonated just right. By the time evening rolled around, I had a rough draft that felt like a true reflection of my journey.

As I set my guitar aside, a sense of doubt washes over me, I sat there with the song echoing in my mind, thoughts of Noah lingered, intertwined with a newfound uncertainty. Our FaceTime call had felt comfortable and familiar, reigniting the creative spark we once shared. Yet, beneath the excitement, a current of doubt stirred.

I leaned back against the cushions, my fingers idly tapping on the guitar strings. The lyrics I had penned seemed to mirror my inner turmoil, capturing the vulnerability of opening old wounds

"But now I'm through with you, nothing to do with you
I'm giving up on what was never there for me this time"

Noah's sincerity and warmth were undeniable, but so were the memories of how things had ended before. The pain of his departure and the unanswered questions still lingered, buried deep within.

Part of me feared getting hurt again, of reopening old wounds and risking my heart once more. What if reconnecting with Noah only led to disappointment and heartache?

A voice in my head whispered, urging caution, suggesting that maybe keeping a distance was the safest choice. Protecting myself seemed easier than navigating the complexities of feelings that still lingered.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. Was it worth risking my heart to rebuild something with Noah? Could we truly move forward as friends and collaborators without the past haunting us?

The uncertainty gnawed at me, tugging at the fragile hope I had begun to harbor. Maybe keeping things professional and distant was the wisest course of action. After all, I had come this far on my own, finding strength in independence and self-discovery.

Yet, a part of me couldn't deny the pull of Noah's presence in my life once again. His support and understanding had been a balm to my soul, reminding me of the joy we had shared in creating music together.

With a sigh, I set my guitar aside and reached for my phone, hesitating before typing a message to Noah. "Hey Noah, thanks for yesterday."

But I never hit send deciding distance was the best answer. I stared at the message on my phone screen, my thumb hovering over the send button. After a moment of hesitation, I set the phone down and leaned back, letting out a sigh. The decision not to message Noah felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders, yet uncertainty lingered in the back of my mind.