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Maybe the universe hasn’t finished weaving the thread that connects us. Maybe the morning sun still burns with the memory of that Thursday, the one we spent unaware that we were saying goodbye without speaking. Maybe there is still a ghost of a feeling hovering near my ribs the weight of your arms, safe and steady, a shelter I didn't know I needed until the roof was ripped away. Maybe, in some twist of fate and mercy, we collide again. Not with fireworks, but with quiet certainty. Just a moment where your eyes find mine and the kiss tastes like forgiveness, like coming home after a long, cold war. And maybe that wasn’t the end at all. Maybe it was just a long pause, a quiet winter waiting for the spring.
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