I Didn’t Disappear. I Met Someone

It’s been a while since I last wrote here.

Not because I ran out of things to say. Not because the thoughts stopped. But because life quietly stepped in—and rearranged everything.

I met a girl.

And suddenly, the hours I used to spend alone with my thoughts were no longer empty. They were filled. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just… fully.

Before her, my evenings belonged to this space. To reflection. To writing. To sitting with discomfort long enough to turn it into words. This blog was where I processed the world—especially the parts men don’t usually say out loud.

Then she arrived, and without announcing it, she became the place my attention rested.

Not in a way that erased me. But in a way that softened me.

Time changed texture. Days felt shorter. Nights felt quieter. The urge to sit and dissect life gave way to simply living it. Long conversations replaced long paragraphs. Presence replaced processing.

I didn’t abandon this space. I just stopped needing it in the same way—for a while.

There’s something disorienting about connection when you’re used to solitude. You don’t realize how much of your identity is built around being alone until someone starts sharing your silence.

With her, I didn’t feel the need to perform, explain, or analyze myself into exhaustion. I could just exist. And that was new.

But here’s the truth I don’t want to romanticize too much:

When you give your time to someone, something else always pays the price.

In my case, it was writing.

Not because it stopped mattering—but because love, attention, and emotional presence are currencies. You spend them where your heart tells you to.

And lately, my heart has been elsewhere.

This isn’t an announcement. It’s not a confession. It’s just a journal entry—me acknowledging the shift.

I’m still the same man who believes men need spaces to speak freely. I still believe in unpacking silence, pressure, and vulnerability. But I’m also learning that sometimes, growth doesn’t look like reflection—it looks like participation.

If you’ve noticed the quiet here, now you know why.

And if you’re in a phase where someone has rearranged your priorities without asking permission—know this: you’re not lost. You’re just living a different chapter.

Writing will always be here. So will this space.

I just stepped out for a moment to feel something real.

— Trivendra

Until next time, stay real and unfiltered.