Orbiting
They circle your life from a distance, watching, liking, but never landing where you can touch them.
They’ve installed themselves in your atmosphere, a silent satellite that never lands but never leaves. Every story viewed is a brush of ghost fingers across your cheek, a reminder that they want the highlight reel of you without the messy behind-the-scenes. You’re their favorite planet, but they’ll never dare the gravity of staying.
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Love Arrives Too Fast, Then Leaves You Standing Alone
Two weeks ago the world paused, and a borrowed sweater carried citrus and rain into my kitchen. He spoke of a future with clockwork certainty; then silence swallowed the room and the glow died on my screen. I chose my pace—learning to love myself again, warmth lingering, even as hope tried to reknit itself.