Langit Abu-Abu

Under this gray sky, a sense of unspoken words seemed to hang in the air. Everything has long been put in its place - resentments, attempts, regrets - but when this melody starts playing, it aches somewhere in my chest again. That first week after a breakup when the air feels thick with memories and your phone takes on a life of its own, offering false hope. The voice sounds soft, almost a whisper, as if addressed not to anyone in particular, but to the emptiness where the echoes of the past still linger. Restrained warmth - without hysterics or reproaches, just a quiet "where are you?" under a rainy sky. And in this gray light, it suddenly becomes clear: missing someone is also a form of tenderness.