Dear Almost #3

Where do I even begin? Life has been full of mixed emotions lately.

And explaining emotions is not my expertise, but still—here I am, trying. I’m not entirely sure how I’ll manage that, but maybe I’ll use a few metaphors, or some moments to make you understand what I’ve been feeling.

Life’s been good, mostly. But have ever stopped to wonder—why here? Why now? I didn’t either, not until recently. The feeling I’m trying to write about doesn’t have a name. So for now, I’m calling it Almost. And yet, there’s something about almost that stays. It sits with you quietly—in the middle of conversations, in the silence after a laugh, in the way you overthink what wasn’t said. It’s not loud. It’s not obvious. But it lingers. And maybe that’s what makes it harder—because it’s not a full story, not a beginning or an end, just a pause you keep returning to.

Some people are like coffee bitter in ways that sting, yet sweet enough to make you stay. They keep you up at night, not because they mean to, but because you can’t stop thinking. It’s strange, isn’t it? How something that disturbs your peace become the very thing you crave. Maybe that’s what makes it so addictive—the mix of calm and chaos.

And maybe that’s it, isn’t it? Almost feels like boarding a plane, knowing it might crash, yet still feeling the pull to board, simply because you’ve already invested too much—emotionally, mentally, maybe even physically. But what if, in the end, it’s not about the crash? What if it’s about the flight itself, with all its turbulence and beauty? The way we hold on, despite the uncertainty, hoping for something more, something unexpected. Maybe we keep boarding, not because we’re afraid of what might happen, but because we’re still clinging to the possibility of what could be.

And maybe, just maybe, that hope, that willingness to keep going, is enough to remind us that even the “almost” is worth something.