As I was sleeping peacefully, I could feel warmth over my face. He was hot—the sun. I opened my eyes and felt the sudden bright light piercing my blind vision! I was expecting a sun-kissed moment, but in my case, it turned out to be a sun slap. The hopeless romantic soul inside me always has a lot of dramatic scenarios playing in my empty head.
Dear overthinkers, ready for another melodrama?
As I looked out of the window—the steady flow of wind, the blue sky, people busy with their own lives, newly built buildings—the scenery was always full of stories. I could hear them whispering about blindly trusted heroes, unnoticed side characters, and misunderstood villains. Every story has a beginning, middle, and end, but overthinking? Uff! Once it begins, there is, for sure, no end. The relationship we share with our mind gets intoxicated as we completely immerse ourselves in an ocean of thoughts. The human brain, surprisingly, has no limits when it comes to certain inanimate feelings.
While looking out of the window, a gentle thought leaned against the door frame. Of course, I welcomed those thoughts before I could recognize the red flag.
“Are you even worthy?” it sank into my mind.
“Insignificant,” the thought whispered—the word that describes my presence.
Insignificance—a huge word, an unfamiliar feeling that made my heart ache. I could see myself standing alone—physically surrounded by friends, yet so distant from them.
“Insignificant,” my mind shouted.
And the voice wasn’t mine. It was my friends'.
Insignificant words, feelings, eye contact—my ‘insignificant’ presence.
“This is not our first time,” my inner child said, tears in her eyes, holding a memory from childhood. As a kid—and even now, as a soon-to-be adult—I’ve had this habit of preserving, protecting, storing efforts. Efforts that made me happy, that made me believe everything was going to be okay. My paintings, silly arts and crafts, postcards, chocolate wrappers, letters, bracelets, even certain stationery items.
People, of course, might think, How insignificant—chocolate wrappers, empty pens, torn letters, broken bracelets!
Just like my insignificant self.
"I am full of scars, broken pieces, empty inside, with a question—‘Is everything ever going to be okay?’—tearing me apart with every breath."
If the day was full of bright sunshine—just like the younger version of me, who just wanted to make sure everyone around her was happy, an innocent people pleaser, dreamy, curious, the girl who genuinely had a smile on her face—then the midnight darkness was filled with twinkling silence, yet so peaceful under the warmth of the moonlight.
“Daylight or midnight?” my inner child asked with curious eyes.
“How about both?” I replied with a genuine smile.
Efforts—a small word that can fix everything.
“Broken but beautiful,” I whispered to myself—someone strong enough to stand even after falling apart. Just like how I put effort into protecting something so insignificant to the world, but not to me.
“Is this treatment going to continue further?” my inner child asked, expecting a positive response.
“No, we are going to make it right,” I said fearlessly.
Even though I may be insignificant to others, to me, I am significant. And that’s all that matters.
I’m going to be a little selfish for myself. It’s a long process—surely going to take time to gather all the shattered pieces of me.
Standing alone sounds tough, right? I believe it is. But isn’t that how life works?
To deserve better, you’ve got to become better.
“No matter how beautiful the view is, if it hurts you, then you’ve got to close the window,” they said.
But… how about putting up curtains? I questioned.
Remember, one step at a time.
With the steady flow of wind and tens of thousands of thoughts slowly filling my empty brain…
I fell asleep.
“The window seat will always be my comfort space.”
What about yours?
The Window Seat