Sunset

2025

Photo by Wesley Cordeiro on Unsplash

It wasn’t the unexpected meeting invite,

Or its enigmatic nature.

It wasn’t my confusing freedom after the teary-eyed parting message.

Freedom to go where the grass is greener,

happiness is greater, or a brighter horizon promises a dazzling future.

It was the room—Sunset.

No serene, warm, sandy beach, with crystal, crack-proof sky.

Rather, ice-blue walls and insufficient light.

It was now the sunset of my work.

Just like years before, when others had been called into their Sunset.

As if in a movie, watching someone else’s life—

When my son was born, they asked me for his name.

After hours of labor, my mind outside my body—

THIS is when I get to give his name!

Or when my mother died…

Unable to grieve—her grave, thousands of miles away,

As if someone else’s mom had died.

Now, again, it was someone else’s life—

In Sunset, relieved—someone else had made it easier for me

To part with this stage of my life.

In Sunset, fearful—of the uncertain future.

Amused—I was now a statistic in a different chart than five minutes before.

Powerless—no one I knew had a say, and neither did I.

Powerful—it was time to crack comfort

And find my why, my what.

I had no room for anger in my being,

Instead, a smile closed the chapter for a new beginning.