72

ZIMKITHA SIBEKO

My phone was still off, exactly the way I had left it last and for the first time I didn't feel any rush or urgency to charge it. There was no point anymore. For so long, it had only ever really been one person who called me Sipho. His name lighting up my screen used to make everything in me lift, like the world suddenly made sense again. But now that he, too, has found people who seem better, funnier, louder, or more exciting than me, the phone just felt like a reminder of how small I suddenly was in his life. So I left it dead, cold, and silent… the same way I felt inside.