Somethings are Meant to Be

Chapter-8

~SHUMI~

As I stood alone on the rooftop, the city below bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was profoundly wrong. The moving was done—the boxes had been packed, the apartment was empty, and the truck had departed with my belongings. I had come up here one last time to savor the view, to say a proper goodbye to the place that had been my refuge for so long. Yet, instead of feeling closure, I felt an unsettling sense of incompleteness.

The sunset stretched across the sky in a beautiful gradient of oranges, pinks, and purples, its colors mingling in a display of fleeting beauty. From this vantage point, the city lights began to twinkle as the day gave way to night, casting a magical glow over the landscape. It should have been a perfect moment of reflection and farewell, but instead, it felt hollow, as if something vital was missing.

I found myself staring at the empty space beside me, feeling a palpable absence. It wasn't just the sense of leaving this place behind; it was the feeling that I was supposed to be sharing this moment with someone. This wasn't just about the apartment or the city—it was about a connection that should have been here, a person who should have been beside me as I said goodbye.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this person wasn't someone I had met or known. It was as if there was an invisible thread linking me to someone I had never encountered, a person who was meant to be part of this farewell. I couldn't picture their face or hear their voice, but the sense of their absence was undeniable. It was an emotional void that seemed to amplify the solitude I felt, making the sunset's beauty seem almost ironic against the backdrop of my loneliness.

I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the cool breeze and the distant sounds of the city. I had always enjoyed these moments alone on the rooftop, finding peace in solitude and solace in the expansive view. But tonight, the very solitude that had once been comforting now felt like an echo of something missing, a space that should have been filled.

The feeling was both disorienting and poignant. I remembered all the times I had sat here dreaming about the future, imagining who I would meet and what experiences lay ahead. But now, the person I felt I was missing seemed to belong to this very place, a presence that should have shared in these moments of reflection and transition.

As the last light of day faded, I realized that this sense of missing someone might be more than just a figment of my imagination. It could be a sign that I needed to remain open to new connections, to embrace the possibility that my journey was meant to include someone—or perhaps many people—who would be significant in ways I had yet to understand.

I took a deep breath, letting the cool evening air fill my lungs. Maybe this feeling of absence was a prompt to seek out the meaningful relationships and connections that would complete my journey. Perhaps it was a reminder that while I was leaving behind familiar surroundings, the real essence of my journey was about the people I would meet and the bonds I would form along the way.

With one last, lingering look at the sunset, I began to descend the stairs from the rooftop. The city below was now awash in the soft glow of evening lights, a reminder that even in the midst of change and uncertainty, there was still beauty and potential to be found. As I left the rooftop behind, I carried with me a renewed sense of purpose—a quiet hope that in the chapters ahead, I might encounter the people who would fill the spaces left by this poignant sense of longing.

With a final, lingering glance at the sunset, I took one last look around the rooftop. I didn't have answers or a clear sense of who this missing person might be, but I felt a resolve to remain open to the new experiences and connections that awaited me. As I descended the stairs, leaving the rooftop behind, I carried with me a renewed sense of purpose—a quiet hope that in the chapters ahead, I might find the person I felt was meant to share this journey with me.