Satu Bulan

It feels like only a month has passed, but it's already like a different life. Someone has even breathing, new habits, a light smile without strain. And for another, it's that very period when silence speaks louder than songs, and even the scent from a stranger's shirt seems like the final proof that all of this happened. The world is divided into "you who succeeded" and "the one who is still rereading the correspondence." And yet, there's a certain softness in this sadness. It's as if the heart isn't breaking, but gently learning to let go. Hoping that on the other side of the indifferent "everything is fine," they will wait a little longer - not start anything new too quickly. Let them not rush, even just a little.