It’s late at night, the city humming quietly in the background. A half-empty coffee cup sits in front of me, still warm enough to hold between my hands, as though the steam might carry away everything I can’t quite put into words. The kind of night where neon lights blur through the window, and time feels soft, suspended.
And then that song plays — Ed Sheeran’s “Overpass Graffiti.”
It’s not just music. It’s a postcard from the past, folded neatly and slipped back into your hand when you least expect it. A melody that carries the ache of things once lived, people once loved, and moments that refuse to stay put in yesterday.
The lyrics don’t drag you into sadness, not really. Instead, they paint something bittersweet — a reminder that love, even when it fades, leaves behind traces that refuse to wash away. Like graffiti under a bridge, faded by rain but never fully gone.
And isn’t that what life is? We don’t erase the chapters we’ve written. We carry them. We wear them. We sometimes sip coffee under dim lights and feel them rise again, not to haunt us, but to remind us that we lived fully enough to leave marks behind.
There’s a strange kind of beauty in that — in knowing that memories can be tender, not because they’re perfect, but because they’re permanent.
So tonight, with city lights flickering outside and this song looping quietly in the background, I let myself sit with the warmth and the longing. Not to change it. Not to move past it. Just to be.
Because sometimes the most human thing we can do is sip our coffee, feel the echo of old love, and whisper thank you to the past for coloring the canvas of who we are now.
✨ Journal Prompts for You
- What memory lingers in your heart like overpass graffiti—faded but never fully erased?
- How does longing show up in your life, not as pain, but as proof of how deeply you’ve lived?
- What would you like to say thank you for, even if it belongs to the past?
🌙 Wherever you are reading this from — I hope tonight feels gentle for you. May your coffee stay warm, your memories feel soft, and your heart find comfort in knowing you’ve lived beautifully.
Salima
Just me thinking out loud over here