The Art of Letting Go

The silence in the car felt too big for just you.

You pulled into the grocery store parking lot, the engine of your old car whining slightly before settling into a steady rumble. Getting out, the air felt heavy with unspoken things – the argument with Hail, the tense silence with Cedric in history class, Seth Everett’s persistent amusement in the parking lot.

You needed yogurt and fruit. Simple things to fill the emptiness that felt like it had taken up permanent residence inside you since the breakup.

Pushing the cart through the aisles, you tried to focus on the mundane task, on the colorful packaging of cereal boxes and the chill from the freezer section. But your mind kept drifting back, replaying conversations, analyzing glances, and cataloging all the ways your life had changed in just two weeks.