"The Power Of Letting Go"

A girl is sitting on a cozy, plush sofa, a notebook resting on her lap and a pen held loosely in her hand. The soft glow of a nearby lamp casts a warm light over her, illuminating her thoughtful expression as she doodles absentmindedly on the page. The room is quiet, save for the faint ticking of a clock, and the atmosphere feels serene and introspective.

On the TV, a YouTube video plays, showing a step-by-step guide on how to draw mandala art. She watches intently, her eyes following the instructor's hands as they create intricate patterns. Every few moments, she glances down at her notebook, carefully mimicking the designs, her pen moving gracefully across the paper. The gentle sound of the video's instructions fills the room, blending with the soft rustling of the pages.

Her silky hair is left open, cascading around her shoulders. As she sketches, strands of her hair occasionally fall into her eyes, causing her to pause and tuck them behind her ear with a quick, practiced motion. The simple, repeated gesture adds a touch of endearing distraction to her focused work.

Meanwhile, her mom walks in, noticing the intricate designs on the page. "Which type of art is this?" she asks, curiosity evident in her voice. "These days, you're always watching this art. Do you like it, or does it tell about any specific thing?"

The girl looks up, a smile playing on her lips. "It's called mandala art, Mom," she explains, a hint of excitement in her voice. "I love it because it's so calming and helps me focus. Each pattern has its own meaning and represents something different."

"Do you know, Mom? In Buddhism, there's a specific ritual. People draw mandala art for a week, giving their best effort and focusing on every line. After completing the art, they rub it away with their own hands. This act is meant to showcase detachment. It symbolizes that everything we love and keep safely with us can break, be destroyed, or go far away, but we should not feel sad. We should not be too attached to people or things we love; only then can we be truly happy in our lives."

Her mom listens intently, her eyes softening with understanding. "That's a beautiful thought," she says gently. "It's a good reminder to appreciate the present moment without clinging too tightly." With those words, her mom gets busy with her own work.

The girl, meanwhile, continues sketching, but her mind begins to wander. She drifts into her own world, thinking about her past. Memories swirl in her thoughts like the intricate patterns she is drawing, and a quiet introspection fills the room. Yet, she keeps sketching, her pen moving methodically, each line a bridge between her present focus and the echo of her past.

She recalls how she was betrayed by her boyfriend. Their relationship had lasted for five years, but after the fourth year, his behavior changed drastically. He started picking fights over silly things, and there were long periods when they wouldn't talk for months. Despite the constant misunderstandings, she was deeply in love with him and always reached out to mend things. This cycle of reconciling and arguing continued for eight exhausting months.

One day, out of desperation, she searched for his Instagram account using her friend's profile because she had blocked him with her own. What she saw on his profile left her shocked, anxious, and heartbroken. She was sitting with her friends on the beach when she discovered the truth, and the waves crashing against the shore seemed to echo her inner turmoil.

Her eyes welled up with tears, but they did not spill over. When her friends saw her sudden sadness, they immediately asked her what was wrong and why she seemed upset. But the girl remained silent, her expression giving nothing away as she continued to gaze at the ocean, lost in her thoughts and the painful memory of betrayal.

One of her friends, curious and concerned, took the girl's phone and looked at the screen. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw the Instagram profile and showed it to the others. They exchanged worried glances, understanding that something significant and painful had been revealed, but they respected her silence, choosing to stay close in quiet support.