A Love Affair

At twelve,

I courted death like a secret crush.

It felt poetic...

to want nothing

when everything felt too much.

I called it romance,

but it was just me

wanting someone, anyone,

to notice I was here,

even if it was death

who came knocking.

But now,

after Camus whispered

that life’s a joke we’re all in on,

I find myself laughing.

I don’t wait by the window

for death anymore.

I step outside,

feel the sun on my face,

taste the wind,

and think...

maybe this is enough.

Not a grand meaning,

not a rescue

just me,

choosing this moment,

again and again,

until it almost feels like love.