November 17, 2019

There’s a weight in my chest tonight,

a heaviness that feels like yours.

It comes in waves,

a quiet ache wrapped in the strange comfort of love.

I can sense something shifting again,

either your unhappiness pressing through the invisible thread between us,

or the slow approach of your leaving.

I don’t know which hurts more.

And yet beneath the ache, there’s warmth.

A love that feels too big for words,

too vast for this world.

Somewhere, beyond time or logic,

I can see us standing close,

arms around each other,

holding on without needing to speak.

I don’t know where that place exists—

but I know it does.

I can feel it every time my heart beats your name.

I wish I could tell you how much I love you.

If things were different—if the world were kinder,

I would never let you go.

Tears rise just thinking it,

and I wonder if you feel them too,

if somewhere your own chest tightens

at the same invisible moment.

When I think back to the day we met,

your warm handshake, your beautiful brown eyes,

it’s as if I was remembering you, not meeting you.

Something ancient stirred in me,

a recognition that both frightened and calmed me.

I knew, even then,

that you would matter in ways I couldn’t yet name.

Even now, when our eyes meet,

the world seems to fall away.

There is no noise, no distance—just that familiar stillness

where only we exist.

I hope you’re happy.

Truly, I do.

Even if my heart keeps carrying your echo through every quiet hour.