← Lazizbek G'aniqulov

Right person, wrong time

It doesn't happen often. This time it did, and the timing was the whole problem.

Most people you meet, you forget within a week. I didn't forget this one.

I found a reason to talk to her again. Then another. Every time we talked, it got clearer — this wasn't just someone I liked. This was someone I could actually build a life with.

Then I looked at my own life. No steady job. No place of my own. Nothing solid enough to offer anyone right now.

She deserves better than that. I still feel like a kid who doesn't know what his future looks like, who hasn't done anything real for his own family yet, and who isn't solid in his faith either. That's a lot of unfinished for one person to bring into someone else's life.

A wooden chair and a small stool standing apart against a sunlit wall.

So I slowed down. Not because I stopped caring. Caring was never the problem.

I keep telling myself this is the responsible choice — wait until I have something real to offer, then try again. Some days that sounds wise. Other nights it just sounds like an excuse with good manners.

I don't know if she'll still be there when I'm ready. I don't know if "ready" is even a real date, or just a story I tell myself to make the waiting feel like a plan.

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