Together/Not

2 The Connection ⏳

A year ago

"Hi, I'm on my way to the coffee shop. See you soon."

I was alone in my dark room, feeling depressed and isolated. I hadn't met anyone or left the house in weeks, my world shrinking to the confines of these four walls. The darkness of the room mirrored the darkness within me, and I couldn't escape the feeling of being trapped in a cage of my own making.

"Arriving in five minutes"

I stayed in bed, unmotivated to move or show up.
I didn't want to go, but
I also didn't want to let him down.

"I'm here." he messaged again.

Despite my delayed replies, he kept reaching out, pouring his frustration into messages about his rough day—how he waited for someone he planned to bike with for hours, only to be let down when they decided not to show up.

How could someone be so thoughtless?
And then it struck me like a cold slap—I was about to do the same thing.

Each message deepened my guilt, making me feel increasingly ashamed of my own behavior.
Panic surged through me. I scrambled to get ready, desperately crafting excuses about traffic and parades to stall for time. Each lie weighed heavily on me, a stark reminder of my own shortcomings. The depression that had settled over me felt like a leaden shroud, darkening my mood and making me detest everything around me.

But amid the heavy gloom and self-loathing, a flicker of resolve pushed me onward. The guilt of potentially letting him down when he needed me most ignited a desperate drive to make things right.

Despite the fog of despair and the burden of my emotions,
I forced myself to go.
In the end,
despite everything,
I showed up.

More than an hour passed.

I see him from outside, so serious and distressed.
His coffee finished.

I walked over to him, trying to sound upbeat despite my sweat-soaked clothes and ragged breath. "Hi! I'm sorry," I said, and before I could offer another excuse, he greeted me with a bright smile and a warm hug.

As we started talking, side by side, our laughter and stories intertwined, I felt a surge of genuine happiness. It was as if the weight of my depression had been lifted, replaced by this newfound joy.

The evening unfolded like a magical whirlwind—dinner and beers, our conversation flowing effortlessly, and every moment sparkled with connection and warmth. It was a night of unexpected delight and a reminder of the beauty in shared moments.

In a bar with a band playing lively tunes, I decided to seize the moment. With a grin, I asked the band to sing "Happy Birthday" to Carlos.
The entire bar erupted in a chorus, their voices rising in cheerful harmony.
Carlos, caught off guard, appeared both endearing and embarrassed, his face glowing with a shy smile.

It wasn't his birthday—I was just having a bit of fun with him.

As the night wore on, the music and laughter wrapped around us like a warm embrace.
We continued to enjoy each other's company, savoring the unexpected joy of the evening.

And then,
I'm in a haze.

⌛️