The waves of love in my life

The cursor blinked like a heartbeat on the screen.

Mira sat in the quiet corner of the bookstore café, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, her chest filled with equal parts fear and peace. For years, she'd hidden this part of her story behind metaphors and silences. But today, she was done hiding.

She took a breath. Then she began to write.

"The Boy Who Taught Me to Fall"

There's a photo I keep hidden in the back of a drawer—

a boy with wind-tossed hair, standing on the edge of a cliff,

grinning like gravity was something he could outrun.

He was my brother.

And I was the one who dared him to climb.

I never told anyone that part. Not fully.

Not the part where I screamed when he slipped.

Not the part where I waited for him to move… and he didn't.

People say time heals, but they don't talk about the guilt.

The way it reshapes your name in your own mind.

The way it silences your laughter, years after the fall.

I've lived in the shadow of that day.

Tried to outrun it with painkillers, poetry, and people who couldn't stay.

But none of them could speak to the version of me that shattered the moment he disappeared.

Until now.

Now I want to remember him. Not just in grief, but in grace.

He was kind. He was wild. He believed every tree was worth climbing,

every star worth chasing. He was louder than life and quieter than the moon.

And even in death, he taught me how to live.

So this is for you, J.

For every unspoken memory.

For the cliff we both stood on.

For the fall I survived.

And for the hope that finally found its voice—through you.

— Mira

When she finished, her hands trembled. But she hit Submit.

It would be published in the Sunday edition of The Voice, the city's largest storytelling column. Lena had pulled a few strings to get her in. Mira expected nerves, even regret.

But instead, what she felt was release.

Like for the first time, her past wasn't a chain—but a story. A beginning.

And somewhere, she swore she could feel her brother's voice in the wind.

"You did it