The villa I rented is a haven of peace. The private pool glistens under the sun, and the silence is almost soothing.
But that calm vanishes the moment I step outside the gate to explore the town.
In every narrow street, on every sunlit square, I’m met with the same sight: couples my age, hand in hand, enjoying a drink on a terrace, sharing a meal with that knowing smile I’ve never known.
The colorful façades, the smell of cooking, the music drifting from restaurants, they should fill me with joy, yet they become a cruel backdrop, highlighting what I lack.
I eat alone. I drink alone. And every burst of lovers’ laughter around me is another small crack in my holiday.
I return to the villa, slip into the water, but even the pool can’t drown this feeling.
But that calm vanishes the moment I step outside the gate to explore the town.
In every narrow street, on every sunlit square, I’m met with the same sight: couples my age, hand in hand, enjoying a drink on a terrace, sharing a meal with that knowing smile I’ve never known.
The colorful façades, the smell of cooking, the music drifting from restaurants, they should fill me with joy, yet they become a cruel backdrop, highlighting what I lack.
I eat alone. I drink alone. And every burst of lovers’ laughter around me is another small crack in my holiday.
I return to the villa, slip into the water, but even the pool can’t drown this feeling.
