Your Name in My Search Bar

It surprised me.

Not because I had searched for you.

Because I couldn't remember doing it.

I stared at it for longer than I should have, trying to decide what it meant.

Was I curious?

Lonely?

Bored?

Or was some older version of me still quietly looking for proof that you existed somewhere beyond memory?

I deleted the search.

Then I laughed at myself.

As if removing seven letters from a screen could erase everything those letters once meant.

Maybe healing isn't about never looking again.

Maybe it is about noticing that you looked, and choosing not to continue.

There was a time when your name could ruin an entire evening.

Today it only interrupted my afternoon.

I think that counts as progress.