Almost Forever 🥹

There is something cruel about returning to old conversations on nights softened by rain. The world outside was cold, trembling gently beneath the storm, and inside my room my piano carried the weight of everything I could not say aloud. It played softly, as though music could hold together the parts of me still collapsing in your absence. Earlier today I was fine. That’s the strange thing about grief. It lets you laugh in daylight then steals into your chest at nightfall wearing familiar perfume. So I opened our messages again. And there we were two people alive inside tiny blue bubbles, still laughing somewhere in the past. God, we were ridiculous. You chasing me while I pretended not to care, my sharp tongue, my endless sass, your patience breaking into hidden smiles, those quiet moments between jokes where your intentions slipped through carefully guarded walls. I read everything again tonight. The beginning. The softness. The becoming. And suddenly the tears came so naturally I almost hated myself for it. Not loud sobbing. Just silent grief sliding down my face while rain tapped the windows like the universe mourning with me. I think what hurts most is that nothing truly terrible existed in those moments. We were just two people trying, failing, loving, fighting, returning. Always returning. Maybe that’s why this loss feels endless. Because we taught each other that no matter how hard we fought, love would somehow find its way back home. Until it didn’t. Tonight my friend blocked the boy who hurt her. I told her I was proud of her strength while secretly mourning my own lack of it. Because I cannot block you. I cannot erase you. I cannot pretend the universe did not once carve your name into the tenderest parts of me. And maybe that makes me weak. Or maybe it simply means I loved you honestly. You know that feeling of standing in the ruins of a kingdom once alive? That’s what this may has been. Me standing quietly among the ashes of something sacred, letting the wind pass through me, breathing in the memory a little longer even after the fire has died. Ohh, Stormie. Mineee. I hope life is gentle with you. I hope your dreams unfold beautifully. I hope the sleepless nights leave you someday. And if love ever finds you again, I hope it feels safe. As for me I will keep carrying you quietly, like rainwater trapped inside piano keys, like unfinished prayers whispered into dark rooms, like a ghost stitched lovingly into the lining of my soul. Because even if time moves forward, even if life rebuilds me into someone new, there will always exist a version of me sitting beside the rain tonight, loving you softly in the ruins of our almost forever.