Life doesn’t ask if you’re ready.
It just moves
pushing,pulling
quiet sometimes,
and loud the rest
and you’re supposed to keep up.
We’ve been told to figure it out
what’s next
who we are
what to say when everybody’s watching
and we’re not sure if the person they see
is even the real us
The tests we were supposed to ace,
the friends were supposed to keep,
the future we were supposed to know
like it’s all already planed.
But it’s not.
We’re still learning.
Still figuring it out
Some days,
It felt like everyone had it all together,
and we were the only ones

 who didn’t get the memo on how to live this life.

How to look happy when we’re not,

how to keep up when we’re falling behind.
And then there’s her

she’s not the loudest,

but her energy fills up space
in a way
 that makes your heart beat faster.

The way she moves,

like everything just comes naturally to her,

like she’s always calm,

like nothing ever rattles her,

and you can’t help but wonder

how she does it.
When she walks by,

it’s like time slows down

you catch yourself looking
 before you can stop,

and suddenly,

everything seems a little brighter
 when she’s near.
It’s not just her smile 
or the way she talks,

it’s how she makes you feel

like you might be the only one in the room

that doesn’t know

how she’s so perfect
 without even trying.
The letter sits 
unread
,
unfolded,

but not unwritten.

And maybe that’s how life is sometimes

a collection of almosts 
 we carry with us

until we can’t carry them anymore.
And I don’t know if this page

holds anything more
 than the weight of what I haven’t said,

but I’m tired of waiting
for something to change
 on its own.
So I turn the page.

Not because I’m ready,

but because I know
 nothing will happen if I don’t.
And maybe,
just maybe,

this is where the real story begins.