The Girl Was Never Gone

She still remembered the first time she saw that giant ice cream. It towered above her like a monument, an edible wonder. Her tiny hands struggled to hold it. She wanted it to last forever—to savour  the sweetness, to let the cold send shivers down her spine, to capture joy in every lick. She didn’t want it to melt too fast, didn’t want it to slip through her fingers. But if it did, she would lick every drop, unwilling to let a single bit of happiness escape. Because isn’t that what little girls do? They hold onto the sweetness, the laughter, the carefree giggles, the peekaboo moments—the fleeting magic of childhood.

But life had a way of uprooting them. They moved on from school, leaving behind the fearless fire of the little girls they once were. They stepped into a new world, into new roles, and somewhere along the way, they tucked that little girl away, as if she were a story they would revisit later.

When they got married, they found themselves longing for a garden—a tiny one, even just a few potted plants on a balcony. They didn’t understand why at the time, but now they do. It was the little girl in them, still searching for roots, still yearning for something to call her own.

Years passed. The work, family, and responsibilities filled their days, and slowly, that little girl became quieter. She was buried beneath expectations, her voice fading into the background. At first, they didn’t notice her absence. But one day, when the house wasn’t so noisy, when their hands weren’t so full, they felt her absence. And there she was—sitting in the forgotten corners and waiting.

Sometimes, she surfaced in the laughter of old friends, in the warmth of a shared secret, in the nostalgia woven into conversations that lingered late into the night. She lingered in friendships that had withstood time and distance—woven into familiar jokes, childhood nicknames, and melodies from their younger days. These moments were the keys that unlocked her presence, proving she had never truly been lost.

She was never truly gone. She had just been waiting to be found. To giggle again without reason. To twirl in the rain. To feel the wind dance through her hair. To eat ice cream, not just for taste, but for the sheer, unbridled joy of it.

So they won’t let her go again. They will walk hand in hand with her, through every season of life. They will keep her laughter, her innocence, her wonder alive. Because no matter how old they grow, the little girl within them never truly disappears. She simply waits—for them to remember.

"She never left, she only hid, in whispered dreams and laughter's lid."