I Wish You Were Here. Right Now. Good morning, you. I don’t know what it is about mornings, but they have a way of making feelings harder to ignore. Perhaps it’s the quiet. Perhaps it’s the softness of the light coming through the curtains. Or perhaps it’s because, before the world starts demanding things from me, there’s a little space where my mind is free to wander. And, lately, it keeps wandering to you. I wish you knew how badly I want to be close to you right now. Not tomorrow. Not someday. Not in some imaginary future where everything is conveniently uncomplicated. Right now. I want the kind of closeness that doesn’t require an explanation. The kind where silence isn’t awkward, where nobody has to find the right words, where I can simply exist beside you without pretending that your presence doesn’t affect me. I want to know what it would feel like to have you near again. Would it be as familiar as my imagination keeps insisting it would be? Would we laugh too much because neither of us knows what to do with all the things left unsaid? Would you look at me for a second longer than necessary? And would I notice? Oh, I would absolutely notice. I’d probably pretend I didn’t, too. That’s the ridiculous thing about me. I can write entire imaginary conversations with you, rehearse a thousand different ways of telling you that I miss you, and yet I suspect that if you were standing in front of me, I’d find something completely unrelated to say. Something clever. Something funny. Anything except the truth. Because the truth feels terribly exposing. The truth is that some people leave little fingerprints on your memory. Time passes, life happens, people grow up, make choices and build lives. And still, every now and then, something brings you back to a feeling you thought you’d neatly folded away. A song. A familiar kind of silence. A passing thought. A little reminder that some chapters don’t necessarily end just because the pages stop turning. And perhaps that’s what makes this feeling so peculiar. I don’t know what you think when you think of me. I don’t know whether these little moments mean anything to you. Sometimes I wonder whether I’m romanticising an old feeling and other times my imagination is so convincing that I almost expect the universe to send me a notification confirming that you’ve been thinking about me too. Ridiculous, I know. But let me have my little morning delusions. For now, I don’t need answers. I just wish I could tell you that I hope you’re sleeping peacefully. That I hope the morning is gentle with you. That I hope life has been kind to your heart. And if you happen to find yourself missing something you cannot quite explain today, well… I hope you know you’re not the only one who occasionally wonders about the road not taken. I wish you were here. Not because I have some grand plan for what happens next. But because, just for a moment, I’d like to stop imagining what your presence feels like. I’d like to know. Until then, I’ll leave this here. Another little confession tucked away where it cannot embarrass me. Yours, in all the ways I’ll never quite say. Venus Retrograde🥀 For the feelings that refuse to log out.