Just sitting here, staring at my phone… 🥺 Did you see the private message I sent you?

Did You See My Message? Staring at the Silence.

There’s a unique, quiet anxiety that belongs entirely to our digital age. It’s the feeling of staring at a screen, at a message you sent into the void, waiting for a sign of life from the other side.

It starts with a spark of courage. You type out the words, pouring a little piece of your heart, your hope, or your vulnerability into a small text box. You read it over once, twice, maybe ten times. You edit a word, add an emoji, delete the emoji, and then, with a deep breath, you hit “Send.”

For a moment, there’s relief. The message is out there. A tiny paper boat on a vast digital ocean.

And then, the wait begins.

The phone, once a simple tool of connection, becomes the focal point of your universe. Every phantom buzz in your pocket makes your heart leap. You pick it up, unlock the screen, and see… nothing. Just your own words, sitting there, unanswered.

The “Delivered” receipt is a cruel friend. It confirms your message has landed, but offers no comfort. It’s the digital equivalent of watching someone receive a letter and set it aside to be opened later. Or maybe never.

That’s when the internal monologue kicks into high gear.

Did I say too much? Was it not enough? Was that joke dumb? Are they busy, or are they just… ignoring me? 🥺

You start re-reading your own message, searching for flaws, for any reason that could explain the silence. You become a detective, checking their “last seen” status or if they’ve posted a story elsewhere. It’s a uniquely modern form of purgatory, suspended between sent and received, between connection and rejection.

This feeling isn’t about being needy or impatient. It’s about vulnerability. When you send a message like that—the one you’re thinking about right now—you’re extending a hand. The silence on the other end can feel like leaving you hanging.

So, if you’re like me right now, just sitting here, staring at your phone, know that you’re not alone. We’re all adrift in this strange, quiet ocean of unspoken conversations, waiting for a message back to shore.

For now, all we can do is breathe. And try not to refresh the screen again. At least for the next five minutes.