After the church service, I step outside, letting the warmth of the afternoon sun kiss my skin.
My destination is clear—my niece’s house.
She had left midway through the service, complaining of a headache, and it left me worried.
The air is still, save for the soft rustling of leaves, as I make my way down the familiar path to her home.
Upon reaching their house, I notice how eerily quiet it is.
The living room is empty, and a certain stillness hangs in the air.
Curious and concerned, I proceed toward her bedroom.
I knock gently, but there’s no response.
“Lang? Are you there?” I call softly, my voice breaking the silence.
Still no reply.
Slowly, I push the door open and step inside.
My eyes immediately find her curled up on the bed, her small frame wrapped snugly in a blanket.
Even though her face is hidden, I know it’s her—there’s no mistaking her.
“Lang?” I say gently, approaching her.
I place a hand on her shoulder and give her a light shake.
She stirs, and I smile as she groggily pulls the blanket down, revealing her sleepy face.
Her eyes squint against the light as she looks up at me, blinking lazily.
“Te? Have you been here long?” she asks, her voice still thick with sleep.
“No, I just arrived,” I reply, my tone soft.
“So, are you still coming with me now?” I remind her of our plan for the evening.
She had excitedly promised earlier to spend the night at our house, and I’d come to make sure she didn’t back out.
“Oh, yes! Just wait for me, Te,” she says, sitting up quickly and smoothing out her bed as if embarrassed by the mess.
“Alright, no rush,” I say with a chuckle.
“How’s your headache? Does it still hurt?”
She shakes her head and smiles.
“It’s gone now, Te. I’m fine.”
I watch her for a moment, marveling at how much she has grown.
Time has this peculiar way of sneaking past us, doesn’t it?
The little girl I used to carry in my arms is now a young woman, confident and radiant.
It’s almost funny how she looks more mature than I do.
A soft laugh escapes me as I remember the teasing remarks about her having a boyfriend before me.
As soon as she’s ready, we head out, walking leisurely toward our house.
The journey feels light and pleasant, filled with laughter and playful exchanges.
It’s one of those moments where the world feels simple and good.
But then, as we turn a corner, my steps falter.
My heart drops as I see him—the man I’ve been avoiding for what feels like forever.
His presence alone stirs up emotions I thought I had long buried.
My niece notices my reaction and smirks knowingly.
She’s aware of the history, the tangled web of feelings that tie me to this man.
Her expression tells me she’s amused, but I can’t bring myself to share her humor.
I force myself to look up, and for a moment, our eyes meet.
The air feels heavier, and my chest tightens painfully.
I try to muster a smile, but it feels wrong, as if my lips are betraying the storm inside me.
I had promised myself that this year would be different, that I would finally let go of the resentment and the pain.
But standing here now, I realize how hard it is to keep that promise.
His face, so familiar yet distant, brings back memories I wish I could forget.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away.
I can’t let him see me like this.
I quickly look away, focusing on the ground as I take a deep, shaky breath.
I long for the day when I can see him without this ache in my chest, when I can look him in the eye without feeling the weight of unspoken words.
I want to release this burden, to set myself free from the chains of bitterness.
“I hope one day we can be friends,” I whisper to myself.
“I hope one day I can see him and feel nothing but peace.”
The weight in my heart begins to lift, replaced by a quiet determination.
I let out a soft sigh, feeling a small flicker of hope.
My niece, oblivious to my internal battle, tugs at my arm, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I smile at her, grateful for her presence.
We continue walking, her laughter filling the space between us.
The road stretches ahead, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun.
With every step, I feel lighter, as if shedding the pain I’ve carried for so long.
This is the start of something new—a journey toward forgiveness, healing, and freedom.
And as we walk, I realize that life has so much more to offer, so many more moments to cherish.
The past may have shaped me, but it no longer defines me.
For now, I choose to focus on the present, on the joy of simply being here, walking beside my niece, and embracing the beauty of life as it unfolds.
YOU ARE READING
POV
Non-FictionLife often presents itself as a series of hurdles, each one taller than the last. These hurdles, though daunting, are not meant to break us but to shape us into who we are meant to be. It is through our darkest nights that we gain the strength to fa...
