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Everyone knows my hands but no one sees what they hold.

Everyone finds in me a place to rest, while I forget how to.

I pull away and guilt learns my name.

It follows me quietly like a patient shadow.

It convinces me to give a little more, even when there is nothing left.

I rest but exhaustion sleeps beside me.

It wakes before I do and waits upon my chest.

There is a kind of weariness that no night can mend.

One that sleep can never truly reach.

I wish I could stop time.

Not to run from life but to return to the place where I lost myself.

Before I forget who I am and become someone I no longer recognize.

I miss the person who lived in my reflection.

The one who laughed without having to try.

Now even silence has become loud.

And my thoughts never stop speaking.

What hurts the most isn't giving so much of myself.

It's forgetting how to keep something.

It's smiling while everything falls apart.

It's wanting to explain that this isn't distance.

That I'm not leaving because I stopped caring.

I'm simply tired of not being able to find myself.

Of searching for me everywhere, except the only place I might still be.

It's looking within and finding only emptiness.

Wondering in silence if I'm still there.

And even so I keep getting up.

Hoping that one day the weight will feel lighter.

That rest will finally be enough.

And that somewhere there is still a path leading back

It’s late into the night and I can’t stop crying. The silence of the house only echoes my own sobs back to me. My head keeps spinning without rest, I replay things over and over again and this hurricane of thoughts and memories doesn’t seem like it’s ever going to stop. It suffocates me to feel how the past becomes so present in the early hours of the morning.

Part of me wishes I could write to you, send you a long text explaining all this chaos inside me, laying out just how deeply I feel for you. But I know that a simple "I love you, always" would be enough. I don't do it because I don't want to scare you away. I’m terrified that you’ll read it and choose to ignore me, or even worse, choose to walk through that door again and leave me in this emptiness.

It's funny how you are not here, at least not entirely, yet you know exactly where I leave the key for you to enter completely. There are corners of my life that remain untouched, kept only for whenever you decide to come back. I leave the porch light on so you don't get lost in the dark, even though it makes me laugh because you are like an owl, so you don't really need it. Maybe I turn that light on more for myself, to trick my mind into thinking the house isn't completely empty.

I suppose if you haven't come in, it's for a reason. Even so, the habit won't die. I keep making coffee every morning, serving it almost out of inertia. I do it to remember, through its aroma, its warmth and its color a little bit of you. I sit here staring at this mug, silently wishing I could share one with you, getting lost in whatever conversation where time doesn't weigh on us, while the sunlight filters through the window and forms that golden hour we used to love so much.

In moments like this, I catch myself drifting into the immensity of possibilities. Before me stands a tree so bright and full of life, where every branch holds a fragment of us. On it hang memories of things we actually lived, real laughter, but also others that are purely imaginary moments suspended in that painful limbo of "maybe one day." And it hurts so much because I lose myself in them, in how beautiful everything could have been if only we were together.

I feel so broken, living a life that doesn't feel like mine, as if I'm merely going through the routine of existing. I inhabit a body that feels foreign, distant, an empty vessel even when my entire being is in constant contact with my skin. There are moments when my mind can't handle the weight and I simply disconnect from this reality; and others, heart-wrenching ones, where it feels like I'm dying inside all at once.

I would give anything to hold you in my arms, to feel your warmth, the touch of your skin against mine. I wish with all my soul I could hear your soft breathing when you finally feel at peace, or your spontaneous laugh when something brings you so much joy and makes you extremely happy. I wish I could have you, even if just for a single moment, exactly as before.

Before the storm swept over us, you were my absolute light,

the only place in the universe where my soul knew no fear.

With you, love had no molds, no rules, no comparisons,

it was a pure devotion, deep enough to make the world quiet.

I still remember the night I woke up trembling,

hit by the sudden, inescapable certainty that I loved you

more than anything this life could ever offer.

We made a quiet, perfect sense together,

yet I am left navigating this endless shipwreck alone.

Without you I feel myself slipping away piece by piece,

fearing I will spend a lifetime searching for a light

that was only ever born in your eyes.

Under this same vast and lonely sky,

I wonder if your thoughts ever wander back to me.

Because in a world where I doubt my own reality,

the love I bear for you remains my only sacred truth

unshaken, untouched by the abyss.