"There’s a certain kind of quiet that happens when someone finally lets themselves fall apart on your shoulder, the kind where the world shrinks down to breath, warmth, and the soft weight of trust. In that space, everything I’ve been holding back slips out: how the only real spark in my day is when her name lights up my phone, how my chest does that stupid little jump because for a moment it feels like I matter to someone. It’s embarrassing to admit out loud, but it’s the truth—she texts me, and suddenly the whole day feels less heavy. And hanging out with her… that’s its own kind of joy. Not the loud, fireworks kind, but the steady, glowing kind that settles into your ribs and stays there. Even the simplest moments, walking around, laughing at nothing, just existing in the same space, feel like they’re worth replaying later. It’s strange how someone can become the safest place you know without even trying, the person you want to lean into when everything else feels too sharp. Being around her doesn’t fix everything, but it makes the world feel softer, and sometimes that’s enough."
Me for art
