And if I write a piece about somehow still being where you both left off despite the countless times you’ve wandered all over, then what ( I’d combust )
Another sleepless night, and I'm diving into Substack like it's a brainrot. There's this one person who haunts me like no one else. When we were still talking, she was my secure base. The strange thing is, she still is; it's like even her absence has become the place I return to.