The Art of Yearning-An unnoticed one

Some things don’t leave with a goodbye.

They leave silently —

and only later we realise how much we miss them.

That soft ache? That longing that stays with us even in the happiest moments?

That’s what I call yearning.

My Childhood

The days when happiness was a Sunday cartoon.

When "problems" meant losing an eraser or getting caught eating chocolate in class.

No fear of the future.

No pressure to prove anything.

Just running around, dirty knees, and a heart full of wonder.

I didn’t know then… those would be the freest days of my life.

My School Life

Fighting for last bench, stealing lunch boxes, and laughing at silly jokes.

That feeling when the bell rings, and you run out like you just got parole.

We complained then.

But now, I’d give anything to sit in that uniform, in that same noisy classroom, even for a day.

My College Days

The time where friendships felt like family.

Where heartbreaks hurt but healed fast.

Where every moment was loud, alive, and chaotic.

We thought we had time.

But it all flew — like a movie that ended too soon.

Now, just group photos and old texts hold the pieces together.

The Love I Never Had

That almost-love. That could’ve-been connection.

The conversations, the glances, the “what ifs” that still live in my heart.

No confessions. No endings. Just a silence that stays.

Sometimes, I yearn for something that never even happened…

But felt so real in my mind.

The Version of Me That Was Hopeful

I yearn for the version of me that didn’t overthink.

Who believed that everything would magically work out.

She’s still in there somewhere.

And sometimes, I hear her whisper,

“Hey… remember how brave you used to be?”

We always think we’ll miss the big moments — the goodbyes, the celebrations, the milestones.

But what really follows you through life…

are the little things.

I yearn for…

.....being someone’s priority —

the person they think of first, not last.

...the sound of my friends calling my name across the corridor.

Now it's just texts and missed calls... but those voices echo in my mind.

...sitting on the terrace doing absolutely nothing.

Just me, the sky, and my thoughts. That was peace.

....old movie nights with family.

Fighting for the remote, but still ending up cuddled together in one blanket.

.....Being remembered in the little things.

A song, a place, a random joke —

Back then, I existed in their world even when I wasn’t around.

...Someone remembering how you like your coffee.

That tiny detail. That quiet care.

Now you drink it alone, and it just doesn’t taste the same.

...Someone waiting for you before they start eating.

That one small pause said, “you matter.”

And now, it’s just plates and silence.

...Someone noticing your silence before you said “I’m fine.”

Because some people saw through the mask.

Now, you keep wearing it… and nobody asks.

the actual lying truth is…

We don’t always crave grand love stories.

Sometimes, we just want to be remembered.

To be understood.

To be held quietly — without having to scream for help.

Yearning is a quiet ache.

It doesn’t scream. It just lingers.

But it also means we lived deeply.

We felt deeply.

And we had something so beautiful, that losing it made us who we are.