Together/Not

7 ⌛️The Confusion

I roam the night market alone, the lights dazzling yet somehow empty.
My stomach rumbles, but my heart is elsewhere, drowning in memories of laughter shared a year ago with Carlos.

What has happened to us?

How could he plan our last night together without me?

He's out there, enjoying himself, devouring the food we used to savor.
I wonder if I ever cross his mind, if he's thinking about what I'm doing or eating at this very moment.

I approach a dim sum stall, but realize too late that I have no cash in me.
Could things get any worse?
Of course.

Frustration twists in my gut as I search for a money exchange, but nothing is open. My hopes fade, and I almost give up.

I miss Carlos.
I want him to appear and rescue me from this lonely night,
but he is nowhere to be found.

He has forgotten about me. Enjoying the company of his friend.

I decided to just go back to the hotel and forget about dinner. As if my day isn't bad enough already, rain pours down, drenching me and adding to my misery. I seek shelter, feeling like a fool.

A random guy notices my empty hands, realizing I don't have cash for food. With a warm smile, he offers to help and I insist on exchanging my local currency. A wave of relief washes over me, and I feel a rush of happiness mixed with embarrassment—at least now I can eat.
I'm grateful, but each bite reminds me of what I'm missing.
I feel pathetic—hungry and soaked, a wave of loneliness crashing over me.

Having finished my meal, I wait for the rain to ease, but it shows no signs of stopping. I hope to be home in time for Carlos's return. My heart, heavy with longing, propels me to dash through the downpour. I pass a series of pastry shops, hoping to find a cake to commemorate our last night together and celebrate his birthday. Despite the weight of my emotions, the desire to celebrate still flickers within me, even if it feels foolish. But with each shop I check, disappointment washes over me—no cake to be found.

Maybe we aren't meant to celebrate after all.

Confusion claws at me—should I fight or just let go?

Soaked and exhausted, I reached the hotel.
Carlos nowhere in sight.

I shower and prepare for bed, waiting.

Minutes turn into hours.

Midnight.

What am I doing? Lying here, waiting for someone who doesn't even bother to update me or know how i am doing? I feel numb, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. I want to sleep, but my mind races, refusing to calm down.

I'm tired.
I'm mad.
I'm going insane.
I just want it to stop.
I do not want to care anymore.

Time drags on.

Then comes a knock at the door.

Carlos.

He walks in, carefree, like an innocent child blissfully unaware of any wrongdoing—or perhaps he's simply too insensitive to realize. I yearn to ask where he's been and how late it is, but I hold my tongue, reluctant to come off as territorial or spark yet another misunderstanding. Instead, I swallow my emotions, feeling invisible and unvalued, as if my presence no longer holds any significance in his world.

As he talks about his night, his eyes sparkle with joy.
I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at how he had an amazing night, and with his female friend. Trying to mask my feelings, I casually asked, "So, do you two get along reallyyyy well?"