With every new pair of irises sitting across some random table,
At a random place,
I hear the same stories wearing different details.
Different voices blending beautifully in unison.
Am I listening to you or to them right now?

It’s not a tragedy either way.
I’m sure my voice is also merging with so many others on your side.

I watch distinct smiles form.
Some teeth are more crooked than others
But they all warm me in their own way.
It’s funny how they imprint on my brain way easier than any other characteristic of yours.

I don’t even know if I’ll ever hear an “I love you” coming from you.
I’m not holding my breath for it.

Are we even going to see each other again?

Does that even matter?

While I hold your hand
And taste your lips
I’m all yours
And you’re all mine.
Our stories don’t matter
As long as our bodies are entangled

This may all end in a couple of hours
Ephemeral like a fleeting dream
Though no one is dreaming.

Our paths might no longer cross
That’s probably the closest we’ll get to our shared happily ever after.

I might take something from you with me.
You might do the same.

Be a stranger.
Or don’t…
If we’re lucky, and flip a coin
What are the odds that we’ll both choose the same outcome?

Before I forget…
When you leave, can you leave the door ajar, please?
I like the glimmer that comes from the corridor.
It reminds me there’s still light out there.
For now I’ll just rely on my own.

The leaves are getting redder with each passing day.

Maybe it’s just leaves getting redder—no meaning behind it.

Maybe it’s a reminder that life’s always changing.

No matter how still things feel, there’s always movement—even if you don’t perceive it.

The temperatures dropped to below twenty now. It’ll be the new norm.

The sunny icon on the weather app is not as prominent as it was not even two weeks ago.

It’ll only get rarer.

But I guess none of these things define what comes next.

It is not a choice per se, but it kind of is.

We get to decide how we are going to deal with colder, greyer days.

I’ve been waking up in different spots in bed.

A few days ago, I was on the other side.

It felt weird, unnatural.

But then I realised: I don’t have a side anymore.

Any side is my side now.

I’ve been dreaming blank.

At least I don’t wake up in the middle of the night anymore.

Well—that’s a lie. Not as often, let me correct that.

Things are back to a steady routine.

And the days keep collapsing into one another.

Nights are calm and normally uneventful.

I haven’t watched TV shows in a while.

I haven’t cooked elaborate meals.

Chicken is still my favourite protein.

And I’ve lost some fat.

I feel stronger than before.

It’s just funny that I don’t have to fight anymore.

It’s like the calm after the storm.

The floor is still wet.

But finally.

Finally, it passed.