The world is wide. The sky is wider. And for the first time, I do not need another name written beside mine to make the stars look beautiful. I look up, and the heavens are already enough. So am I.
I Do Not Need Another Name
Blog Posts
As the Pendulum Swings
I hated your absenceuntil I learned to live by it—to chart my nights around the vacancywhere your star had once burned,to call the darkness by another nameand mistake the quietfor the shape of healing. I built my peace slowly. Stone by stone,I made a small universe of myself—hung new constellationswhere your light used to be,learned... Continue Reading →
Ephemeris of a Returning Star
You left to seek a quieter sky,to chart your course beyond the reachof our old gravity.And when you vanished,the heavens inside me collapsed—constellations broke apart,their silver lines unthreaded,their names forgotten by the night. For a while,I wandered among the ruins of stars,gathering fragments of myselflike fallen meteors from dark fields.One by one,I placed them back... Continue Reading →
The Lamplighter’s Little Planet
There was once a boywho lived on a very small planet. It was not a remarkable planet.There were no mountains,no seas, no kingdoms. Only a little house,a little garden,and one lampthat he lit every evening. The boy had once believedthat a planet needed another personto make it worth living on. He had been wrong. After... Continue Reading →
The Boy Who Closed the Heavens
There was once a boywho drowned himself in the silence,in the absence of a love he had lost.He sought answers from the stars,the cards, and the omens of dreamshe never understood. But time healed all woundslike it always does and left the boystronger that he ever thought he was. The boy finally becamea quiet country... Continue Reading →
Before I Ask the Stars for Another Name
I am not waiting for love. I am learning how to stop mistakinga lighthouse for a harbor. For years, I chased constellationswith a compass that spunwhenever lonelinesspretended to be north. I called every familiar ache destiny.Every storm, a sign that I was sailingtoward someone. But the sea does not rewardthose who confuse survivalwith arrival. So... Continue Reading →
The Artifacts of What Once Was
There are objects in my life that have outlived the relationship they came from. Not because I forgot to throw them away. Not because I am holding on. They simply remained. A sweater hanging among my clothes. A leather jacket folded neatly in a cabinet. A bookmark resting between pages I have long since reread.... Continue Reading →
The Quiet Intimacy of Sending Memes to Friends
I think one of the quietest forms of love in adulthood is sending someone a meme you know will make them laugh. Not grand gestures. Not dramatic declarations. Just a badly cropped image at 02:00 AM with the message “This reminded me of you.” And somehow, that means “I carried you in my thoughts today.”... Continue Reading →
Learning to Begin Again Without Shame
I used to think starting over was something people did in their twenties. Back then, reinvention looked cinematic in my head. A new city. A dramatic goodbye. A montage set to hopeful music. Something decisive enough to divide a life cleanly into before and after. But real beginnings, I’ve learned, are much quieter than that.... Continue Reading →
The Year I Stopped Romanticizing My Suffering
There is a quiet kind of strength in no longer needing your life to hurt in order for it to feel meaningful. And maybe adulthood, at its gentlest form, is simply this: Learning that peace is not emptiness. It is safety. It is enoughness. It is finally being able to sit in a quiet room without feeling the need to destroy yourself just to hear something louder.
Zenith IRLs 