3 am is a different city
3 A.M. Is a Different City A month ago I was in another city, and somehow another version of myself. New Year’s night. Streets glowing. My best friend next to me. We were tipsy, loud, dramatic about nothing. The kind of happy that feels cinematic. Surrounded by people I love. Music spilling into the roads. The year beginning like it owed me something beautiful.I remember thinking — this is the life I’ll talk about later. Then college fest happened. I participated without planning to. It was messy and unexpected and strangely perfect. I fixed my schedule. I started studying seriously. I felt like I was finally syncing with my own rhythm. And now it’s 3 a.m. The city outside is asleep. My room feels unfamiliar in the dark. My hand is wrapped, stiff, inconvenient. Not tragic. Just there. A constant reminder that things can shift without asking you first. I’m not brave about it. I’m not poetic about it. I’m just… alone with it. There’s something strange about how fast joy ev...