telos

a pretty face.

a beautiful smile.

a handshake

in a warehouse.

—

what’s your name?

she points

to her nametag.

—

what’s yours?

tanveer.

—

and just like that—

a story begins.

not with fireworks.

not with fate.

not with a sign from heaven.

just two people

meeting.

—

february.

march 5th.

a phone number.

coffee.

inside jokes.

random updates.

the type of moments

that don’t feel important

while they’re happening.

—

that’s the trick.

life never tells you

which moments

you’ll carry home.

—

one day

you’re just talking.

the next

months have passed.

and somebody

has become part

of your day.

—

i spent so much time

trying to understand

what it meant to her.

what she felt.

what she saw.

what she wanted.

—

meanwhile—

something was happening

to me.

—

i was carrying it.

quietly.

naturally.

without even realizing

how much space

it had taken up.

—

then one day

a passenger seat.

a chest drop.

a story changes.

—

or maybe

the story didn’t change.

maybe i finally

became aware

that i was inside one.

—

because the pain

was never really

about a passenger.

—

the pain was realizing

i cared.

more than i admitted.

more than i wanted to admit.

more than i knew.

—

and for days

i searched

for answers.

signs.

proof.

certainty.

—

what did she feel?

what did it mean?

what was this?

—

until i arrived

at a harder truth.

—

it couldn’t have been nothing.

—

nothing doesn’t survive

four months.

nothing doesn’t follow you home.

nothing doesn’t sit

in your chest

when you wake up.

nothing doesn’t make you

revisit old conversations

looking for pieces

of yourself.

—

then another voice

arrived.

—

answer your parents’ calls.

one day

it’ll be the last time

you hear their voice.

—

and suddenly

the story became bigger.

—

because now

it wasn’t just about love.

it was about time.

—

how much of life

passes unnoticed.

how many conversations

become memories.

how many ordinary moments

are only recognized

when they’re gone.

—

and that’s when

i finally understood

the ache.

—

not what could’ve been.

not what should’ve been.

not even what was.

—

just the simple truth

that it mattered.

—

the path

to feel no ways

was never pretending

it meant nothing.

—

the path

was accepting

that it meant something.

—

something real.

something unfinished.

something i may never

fully understand.

—

and maybe

that’s what freedom is.

not getting the answer.

not getting the girl.

not getting closure.

—

just telling the truth.

—

i cared.

it mattered.

and now

i can let it go.

—

telos.

the fulfillment

of a thing’s purpose.

the completion

of what it was always

becoming.

—

the purpose

was never

getting the girl.

—

the purpose

was understanding

what she revealed

about me.

—

and now

i understand.

—

a flower reaching full bloom is beautiful.

it’s also the beginning of the end of the bloom.

a season reaching fulfillment is beautiful.

it’s also the moment before the season changes.

— Mr. Mak


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