3 am.

3 a.m. The world is quiet but my mind isn’t. Thoughts pile up like waves in the dark, heavy with everything I didn’t have the strength to carry today. My chest feels tight with emotions that don’t have names, just weight. And all I can think about is your hands. How they would find my back without me even asking, slow circles in the dark like you’re smoothing out all the knots inside my heart. It’s strange how something so simple can quiet a storm. Your touch— steady, warm— like a hand on the brakes of a racing heart. The noise fades, the edges soften, and suddenly the night doesn’t feel so heavy. At 3 a.m. when everything feels too loud inside my head, the thought of you is the closest thing to peace. 🌙