I sit quietly, watching couples laugh, touch, exist together.
Meanwhile, my own life drifts by in silence.
I start drawing a line—two lines attached. But I stop.
It’s like I’ve forgotten how to feel love.
The lines are in different layers, seem connected but not touching.
And where am I? I’m in between, creating new worlds.
Looking for clarity and truth.
I look at the couple again, and they seem to know how to be with someone. How do they make it look so easy?
I wonder if love is a language too difficult to understand.
On the contrary, confusion, betrayal, just disrespect…
What would happen?
I would leave when it was time to let go.
You chose. It’s simple.
I’m multidimensional, complex.
Friend, I hope you found happiness.
Because maybe that’s what love is too, wishing someone well,
even when they’re no longer feeling like home.
And I keep drawing, hoping one day the lines will meet.
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