The Unanswered Message

It wasn’t the tears that made him feel sad. It was knowing there weren’t any left.

Rain tapped softly against the cold glass window while the distant thunder rolled across the darkened sky. The storm surrounding him felt just like the one he had been carrying himself.

The thought of facing reality felt like a spear through the heart, the lingering pain of not knowing.

He sat alone - he had for weeks. His phone lay still on the table, the screen dimmed as his eyes locked – hoping it would light up, even just for a moment.

The message was still there. Unread? Or simply just ignored?

He still didn’t know which hurt more, and perhaps he didn’t want to know.

A half-empty mug sat on the table opposite him. He should have cleaned it by now, but he couldn’t. The empty chair across from him also guided his attention far too often, yet he couldn’t help but stare.

The memories always arrived uninvited. He could still hear the echoes of laughter through the house. Conversations that still played through his mind like old-style tape replays.

Then the silence came. It always did. The certainty that tomorrow may look the same as today, almost as if it was predestined.

He tried so hard searching for the moment it all began to unravel. Were there signs that he didn’t see? Were there moments that shouted warnings. Or perhaps was he blind and unaware of the reality surrounding him.

A flash of lightning lit up the room for a split second. He looked at the window, and then back down to the phone.

He needed the courage – the kind only a lion seemed to know. He needed to make that one decision, to allow himself to make the move he unknowingly so desperately needed.

His thumb hovered over the screen. Should he delete the message? Is that letting the silence win? Or should he leave it, as a reminder of the past?

Maybe it was the acceptance that some things are to remain unfinished.

Instead, he stood.

The legs of the chair slowly scraped the wooden floor, as he picked up the phone and placed it in his pocket.

He walked towards the front door. The rain had become a drizzle, as the sunlight began to break through the glass.

He put on his coat, smiling ever so softly.

His phone buzzed. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket and held it – one hand on the door handle and one holding his phone.

1 new notification.

1 new message.

He stood, stunned.

His decision was already made.

He put the phone back in his pocket and opened the door.

The sun shone in his face as he stood outside, the rain having completely cleared.

The message remained unanswered.

And now it was time to choose.

Not between sending it or deleting it. Not between holding on or letting go.

But either living in the reality of yesterday or embracing the freedom of tomorrow.

He stepped into the sunlight, the warmth washing over him like a blanket.

And for the first time in weeks, he no longer needed an answer.