It’s almost your graduation day.
And I keep thinking...
if time had been kinder,
if fate had folded us differently,
maybe I’d be there.
Maybe I’d stand in the crowd,
heart bursting at the seams,
watching you step into your light,
draped in your toga like a crown,
wearing your victory
stitched from sleepless nights
and unspoken battles.
I always imagined it...
the first time I’d see you,
not through pixels or dreams,
but there… in the flesh,
in that beautiful, unrepeatable moment
when the world pauses to say:
you made it.
And I…
I would’ve smiled like the sun couldn’t compete.
Because I knew
how much it took.
I knew the weight you carried,
the storms you walked through
without a single soul seeing you soak.
You were always the quiet fighter,
the one who never asked for applause
but earned it anyway.
And now,
the chapter turns...
a blank page awaits,
and the ink is in your hands.
But maybe I won’t be there
to see the pen touch the paper.
Maybe my name
was never meant to be in that scene.
Maybe I was just a soft echo
in a loud and rising song.
Still..
from where I stand,
far from the stage,
far from your new beginning..
know this:
I am proud.
With a pride that doesn’t need to be seen,
only felt.
A quiet kind of love,
that claps in the silence
and cries in the shadows.
I hope you chase your dreams
with the same courage
you used to survive your nights.
I hope you rise...
not just for your family,
not just for the world...
but for you.
