Tonight I watched a couple laughing across the street.
I wasn’t even trying to notice them. I was just standing near my window after posting something new… doing that familiar thing I always do — refreshing notifications. At first it feels hopeful. Like something exciting might happen. And then, slowly, it just starts to feel tiring.
My room was dim except for the soft light from my laptop. Outside, the city felt unusually quiet, like it was moving carefully so it wouldn’t disturb anyone.
And then I saw them.
They were sharing fries from one of those flimsy paper trays. Leaning into each other. Playfully arguing about something completely unimportant. The kind of moment you wouldn’t even think to record or post.
It was so normal that it hurt.
Not in a dramatic way. Just a small, quiet ache. Because sometimes I realise I don’t envy grand romantic gestures… I envy proximity. The simple certainty that someone can reach out and touch your arm. That a laugh doesn’t need to travel through speakers. That silence can be shared without feeling empty.
I stayed there watching longer than I meant to.
My fingers kept tracing the edge of my phone without me noticing. My breathing slowed. The quiet in my own room suddenly felt louder — like every little sound I made was being gently echoed back to remind me I was alone.
Meanwhile, notifications kept coming in.
Hearts. Fire emojis. Messages filled with compliments and longing.
Sometimes I read them with genuine warmth. Sometimes with curiosity. And sometimes… with a kind of dependence I don’t love admitting. It feels nice to be wanted. Even if what people want is only pieces of you. Carefully chosen moments. A version of you that exists between edits and filters and confidence you don’t always feel.
One message tonight simply said:
“I wish you were here.”
I smiled when I read it.
And then, unexpectedly, my chest tightened.
Because I realised I wished I was somewhere too.
Not necessarily with him. Not even with someone specific. Just somewhere real. Somewhere conversations don’t freeze because of bad internet. Somewhere you don’t have to wonder what someone really meant. Somewhere closeness isn’t imagined — it’s felt.
Connection today feels confusing in ways I don’t think we were prepared for. It’s not just about choosing people anymore. It’s about choosing which version of reality you want to live in. The one where attention is constant and comforting… or the one where things are messier but maybe more honest.
Sometimes I catch myself wondering who actually understands me.
Not the content. Not the confident smile that appears seconds after I hit record. But the girl who sits quietly afterward… staring at her own reflection in a dark screen. Watching her expression soften when she knows no one is looking.
It’s strange how easy it is to start imagining lives around strangers. Wondering how their day went. Whether they also lie awake at night replaying tiny interactions until they start to feel important.
Tonight I imagined what it would feel like to just sit beside someone without needing to be “on.” To let silence exist without filling it. To feel things happen naturally instead of analysing every emotion.
There’s a part of me that wants that kind of closeness.
Not just for the people who watch me… but for myself.
But being vulnerable feels risky when so much of your world is built on perception. On illusion. On being seen without always being known.
So eventually I went back to my notifications. Replied to a few messages. Liked some comments. Let myself fall back into that familiar rhythm where affection arrives in pixels.
Across the street, the couple finished their fries and disappeared into the night.
I stayed by the window a little longer. Listening to my own heartbeat. Watching the reflection of city lights mix with my face in the glass.
Maybe connection doesn’t always need touch to be meaningful.
Maybe emotional closeness through a screen is still real in its own way.
Or maybe I’m just learning how to exist somewhere in between.
Tell me honestly…
have you ever felt more understood by someone far away than by the person sitting right next to you?