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I know your heart is scared— to feel again, to try again, to open and let love find its way in. To let happiness rest in your chest without waiting for the moment it disappears. I know that every smile, every kiss, every shared laugh, is both breathtaking and terrifying. Not because it’s wrong, but because it feels like home. You love the way my hand finds yours, how our bodies seem to know the same language. The way we speak the same thought without needing words. How each k

I live in layers. What I say today might outgrow me by tomorrow. Because truth shifts, and people do too. To each their own madness, to each their own meaning. I’ve lived a thousand lives in just thirty years, seen far more than I ever wanted to, all in the name of love and the search for belonging. So when I look at others— whether they’re rising or unraveling— I see their choices, every one of them, as essential to their becoming. Do we ever truly have a choice, or was the

The self-love trope that’s shoved down our throats ad nauseam. That we are enough by ourselves. That we are whole beings. That if we can’t achieve that— above all else— we’ve somehow failed. But hear me out. What if we weren’t meant to be whole alone? What if other people were meant to give us pieces, and receive pieces of us in return? What if that’s why we’re wired— for community, for a shared meal and a quiet evening, for laughter that fills a room, for the simple miracle