I still stalk my ex, just to see if they’re happier without me.

It’s pathetic, I know.
Months have passed, life has moved on, yet I still find myself typing their name into search bars like a habit I can’t break.

I don’t want them back — at least, that’s what I tell myself.
But I want to know.
I want to see.
Are they smiling more?
Laughing louder?
Dressing better?
Loving someone else?

Every time I see them posting something fun, it stings — but I still scroll. Every time I notice a new person consistently liking their posts, my stomach drops — but I still watch.

There’s a pain that comes from not being missed, a quiet ache that settles in the chest and pretends it’s just curiosity.
But it’s not curiosity.

It’s longing.
It’s ego.
It’s heartbreak that hasn’t finished its job.

Sometimes I imagine them checking my page too.
Sometimes I pretend we’re both watching each other silently, trying to move on but failing.

But deep down, I know the truth:
I’m the only one stuck.

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