The past week has been relentless. Work has been so demanding that time felt like the most expensive thing I owned. Every day, I took a taxi to and from the office. Taking the bus would have meant nearly two extra hours spent getting ready and commuting, energy I simply didn't have. I'd gladly spend a little extra money for an additional hour of sleep, or even just the chance to rest.
What I didn't realize, though, was that I had also given up one of my favorite parts of commuting by public transport. Those bus rides have always been my quiet space for self-processing and self-regulating. A moving pause button between home and work. And for the past week, I hadn't had that.
This morning, I finally took the city bus again. Somewhere between the stops, with nothing to do but stare out the window and think, I realized how much of the past week I'd spent looking for my office crush. At the convenience store. At the coffee shop. Around the food court. In random corners of the building.
Not because I expected anything to happen, but because seeing him had become a small source of comfort on exhausting days. A tiny bright spot to look forward to when work felt overwhelming.
The problem was that the more I searched, the less fun it became. What started as a harmless little crush slowly turned into a scavenger hunt. So I decided to stop looking. To let every encounter happen naturally again.
After all, the unexpected sightings are always the best ones. The butterflies feel lighter, happier, more genuine. If our paths cross, wonderful. If they don't, that's perfectly fine too.
As the saying goes, what is meant for you will never miss you, and what misses you was never meant for you.
I finished my commute, arrived at the office, headed to the food court to buy a snack, and there he was. Walking down the staircase.
There I was, sitting on a bus, making peace with the possibility of not seeing him at all that day. Accepting that some days are just ordinary days.
And perhaps that's why seeing him a few minutes later felt so unexpectedly delightful.
Not because it meant anything, not because it was fate, not because it changed my life.
But because, for the first time in a week, I wasn't looking. I was simply living my life.
And somehow, that made the moment feel much lighter when it arrived.
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