Burning Beneath

My tears rolled down my cheeks at the ending of a TV series.

That’s something I’ve always done.

Cartoons, movies, shows, any tender moment reaches straight into me and pulls the tears out without asking permission.

This one was about a young, pure love.

A love that kept circling back, drifting apart, finding its way again.

And in the end, they chose each other.

Again. And again. And again.

They finally said it out loud.

I want that.

I want to be chosen.

I think deep down, I’m still a kid who believes in happy endings.

Even if they mostly live in stories, screens, and animated worlds.

Those moments still move me because they remind me of something I haven’t lost, hope.

I know my happy ending is waiting for me.

Not because a show promised it.

But because something in me refuses to believe that tenderness was placed in my heart for nothing.

It’s only a matter of time.