Tag: Y

Dear Y, thank you for the 3 hours of memory.

When our 3-hour meeting was over,

in the morning after flying into the city,

I sat by a tiny jostling French franchise cafe,

staring out into normalcy of a suburban Spring,

realizing I may not see you again for a long long time (perhaps eternally long).

A burning realization shook me to my core. Should I have asked you to stay? It was just a few minutes ago—an alternate universe so palpable and vivid that it’s a somber reminder of utter solitude.

I walked through high-rises, museums, and the cemetery, and another question started to arise.

What is this burning sensation? Is it mutual? Is it pure, noble compassion, or is it a dark ball of yarn of obsession?

When my true colors arose, I could only acknowledge. I realized change was a necessity. To keep talking, running, and building is to keep the fire in my heart alive.

Thanks for showing me what staying true to yourself looks like. Thanks for walking away. Thanks for giving me a chance to look back at myself. Thanks for teaching me that I need to work, not just to survive but to keep dreaming, to keep loving, and to keep living.

3.25.2025