The Last Unsent Message

John is a hard-working guy with no parents to support him. He is someone who's determined to become great in life, despite having no one to support him. At exactly 9:20 pm every night, he would pick up his phone and open the same chat.

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No new messages.
There hadn't been any messages for two years since he lost his parents.

He never typed as he has no one. He only read messages; the old conversation was filled with laughter, silly arguments, and promises that once felt eternal. At the bottom of his phone screen was a draft message she never sent:

"I'm okay and doing fine. I hope you are too."

He had written it the night his world broke.

John used to believe love was loud grand gestures, long calls, and constant reassurance. But when she left without saying goodbye, he learned love could also be silent. Painfully silent.

Life is going on. Friends smiled around him. Time passed. He healed in pieces, not at once. Some days she laughed freely; other days, she was the version of himself that believed forever meant forever.

On a rainy evening, while he was at home, his phone buzzed at 9:20 p.m. A message. His hands shook as he opened his phone.

"I don't know if you all see this. I just wanted to say I am deeply sorry. I never stopped caring."

John stared at his phone screen. For a moment, his heart remembered how to ache the old way. Then he smiled softly, peacefully. He deleted the unsent draft.

The reason is not that he didn't care anymore, but because he finally did care about himself. He typed one last message, not to her, but to his notes: "I survived what I thought would destroy me".

For the first time since he lost his parents, at 9:20, he put his phone down and went to sleep whole again.