Theme song: Where's My Love by SYML
"Some people never leave, even after they're gone."
— Mira
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It was a Tuesday when I returned to the café.
The air inside was thick with the aroma of roasted beans and memory.
It hadn't changed—same chipped blue mugs, same honey-colored counter, and that old jazz song that Elian always said reminded him of Paris.
It was almost cruel, how familiar it felt.
I stood by the entrance for a while, afraid that if I walked in, I'd dissolve into the past completely.
But I did it anyway.
---
The barista, a kind girl with tired eyes and a sunflower tattoo, gave me a soft nod of recognition.
I used to come in here every day with Elian, our laughter echoing between coffee grinders and espresso steam.
Now I just ordered tea and sat by the window—his favorite seat.
---
I stared at the chair across from me.
It wasn't empty.
Not to me.
---
For a long time, I said nothing.
I just listened—to the quiet hum of life around me, to the rain tapping gently against the window, and to my heart slowly stitching itself back together.
A part of me kept hoping I'd hear his voice, feel his hand brush against mine.
But there was only silence.
A comforting silence.
---
I pulled out my notebook, the one Elian had given me on my birthday last year.
The pages were still mostly blank.
So I started writing.
Not to him.
With him.
---
"I went back to our café today," I wrote.
"It still smells like cinnamon and old stories. You'd laugh if you saw how quiet I was—me, who never stopped talking when you were around."
---
The words flowed easily.
I didn't need to search for them.
They had been waiting for me, just like this place had.
---
And for the first time in weeks, I felt… okay.
Not healed.
But okay.
---
I looked out at the rain, remembering how he once said, "Grief is just love with nowhere to go."
Maybe now, I'd found somewhere for it to land.