Before the silence comes...

The writer in me decided to take over my brain for the day, writing heals something within...expressing what is trapped within my brain... 

To the space between what is and what might be...

Uncertainty is the only constant I've ever truly known.

I am writing this because silence is a luxury we cannot afford when love lives inside us. 

Some days, the world feels like a collection of maybes... 

half-finished sentences, 

promises hanging by threads, 

dreams suspended between breath and forgetting. 

And in these moments of trembling uncertainty, I realize how little we actually control. 

I have learned that love is not about holding on tight, 

but about letting go with grace, 

with radical honesty. 

About saying the things that live in the chambers of our heart,

before those chambers grow quiet. 

There are words I need to release before they become ghosts: 

I see you. 

Not just the version of you that the world sees, 

but the hidden landscapes, the quiet struggles, the unspoken dreams that flutter beneath your skin. 

 I want you to know that in a world of shifting sands, you have been my most solid ground. 

Not perfect. 

Not permanent. 

But true. 

Uncertainty teaches me that every moment is a gift... 

unpackaged, unexpected, sometimes terrifying. 

But gifts nonetheless. 

I am learning that life is a series of whispers, 

each breath a delicate negotiation between being and not being.

Mortality sits beside me now, not as a shadow, but as a gentle teacher with tender hands. 

Each morning, I watch sunlight fracture through window glass and understand how easily brilliance can shatter. 

How a moment can split open like a dropped crystal... 

beautiful in its brokenness, 

ephemeral in its perfect. 

So here I am, mapping out the territories of what remains unsaid: 

My gratitude. 

My vulnerability. 

My profound, complicated love. 

Because we are not promised tomorrow. Because silence is a form of violence when honesty can heal. 

Because uncertainty demands that we speak, that we reach out, that we touch the ones we love before the opportunity dissolves like morning mist. 

 I am here. 

You are here. 

And for now, that is everything.