Wordless

 Love Letter to the Universe

 evermore — track 17

I do not know how to carry this ache,

this quiet, gnawing grief that blooms in silence.

It curls beneath my ribs,

an anxious fog that blurs tomorrow.

Still—I know.

Joy waits for me, somewhere out there,

like sunlight trembling on the horizon.

With a heavy heart,

I exhale the weight of memory—

the laughter, the warmth,

the truths I wish I never found.

Sometimes, I wonder if this wound is self-inflicted.

If I am the architect of my own heartbreak.

Some things, perhaps,

were never meant for me to know.

Maybe this is my consequence.

My karma.

I begged—

for love,

for presence,

for softness and for grace.

But my voice echoed unanswered,

a whisper in a storm.

Maybe it was always just me.

Maybe I wasn’t special.

Maybe I am not.

I see now—I am not as logical as I thought.

This fragile heart is louder than reason.

Perhaps it’s because

I’ve never been loved before like that,

or maybe never truly loved at all.

God…

I’m going to miss him.

And God—please—

teach me how to let him go.

Unbind me from this sorrow.

This shattered heart may not be

the worst pain the world knows,

but it weighs on my spirit.

It clouds my mind.

It steals peace from my friends.

I want to be whole again.

Please, Lord,

heal me.

Free me.

Still, I wish him well.

I will lift his name in prayer—

for success, for joy,

for dreams fulfilled.

Even if I won’t be there to see them bloom.

It hurts,

but perhaps it’s for the best.

For me.

I love him—

oh, how deeply I do.

But I must love myself more.

I must choose me.

I must learn to see myself

not as broken, but becoming.

I am a sailor,

adrift on grief’s dark sea—

but I have God.

My North Star.

My Light.

My Anchor.

The days ahead terrify me.

I don’t know how I’ll survive

this ache that echoes in my chest.

I fear what it might steal from me—

my job,

my joy,

my peace.

But I will cling to prayer.

I will fight for faith.

Tonight is quiet.

Painfully so.

And still—I cannot see a future

where I am whole again.

Where he is gone from my thoughts.

But I will hope.

I will believe.

God, please…

erase his name from the corners of my soul.

Or give me courage to leave it behind.

I don’t even know what I want—

just that I want to stop hurting.

I want to forget.

I want to be brave enough to let go

of a love that never held me back.

Lord, I trust You—

with my healing,

with my letting go,

with my tomorrow.

In twilight's grasp, our paths diverge,

Not mine to lose, nor yours to surge.

A dance of shadows, silent refrain,

Two souls untethered, free of the chain.

Stars bear witness to our separate flight,

No binding vow, no endless night.

Yet echoes linger, memories entwine,

A shared existence, a fleeting sign.

Through realms uncharted, we boldly stray,

Destinies weaving an intricate ballet.

In the tapestry of time, our threads align,

A transient connection, sublime design.

Beneath the moon's soft, silver glow,

Unspoken words in the night's shadow.

A symphony of whispers, a silent plea,

Yet boundaries guard what could never be.

Through whispers carried on the breeze,

Moments shared in the rustling trees.

Parallel journeys, distant and wide,

Yet in the heart's chambers, a knot is tied.

Beneath the veil of night's clandestine sway,

Our souls converge in a secret ballet.

In hidden alcoves where shadows play,

Silent meetings that none betray.

A dance of whispers, a furtive embrace,

In the quiet corners of time and space.

Moonlit rendezvous, a stolen chance,

Our connection deepens in this clandestine dance.

Through veiled encounters, emotions unfold,

Yet secrets kept, a story yet untold.

Bound by the stars, entwined by fate,

In these covert moments, we navigate.

Not mine to lose, nor yours to find,

Our rendezvous exist outside of time.

In the cosmic tapestry, a clandestine part,

Where souls entangle, yet worlds apart.

So, let the winds carry our silent song,

In the vast cosmic tapestry, we belong.

Not yours to lose, nor mine to claim,

Yet in the echoes, lingers a shared name.

Maybe I will die at 50. Not because I’ll have a terminal disease nor do I have one right now, but because I have always imagined 25 as half my lifetime. In the grand tapestry of life, where every year we weave a new thread, there exists a momentous juncture — a quarter-century mark that beckons reflection and celebration. As I stand on the precipice of 25, a symphony of memories and aspirations plays in my mind, each note a testament to the journey that has brought me to this pivotal point.

 

Half my lifetime encapsulates the essence of the past, a poignant reminder that the first quarter-century is both a prologue and a foundation. It is a chapter that began with the innocence of childhood, unfolded through the trials of adolescence, and now, at 25, continues to shape the narrative of my existence.

 

At the dawn of adulthood, the world seemed an expansive canvas, and every choice held the weight of newfound responsibility. The first tentative steps into independence were accompanied by the cacophony of self-discovery, as I navigated the labyrinth of relationships, education, and the pursuit of passions. Each victory, each stumble, etched lessons into the canvas of my being.

 

Twenty-five stands as the fulcrum upon which the scales of ambition and reality balance. The dreams of youth are no longer distant constellations but tangible destinations within reach. The ardent desire for success, love, and meaning in life takes center stage, and the once-distant future becomes the present moment.

 

This age is a crossroads, a place where the nostalgia of youth collides with the anticipation of what lies ahead. The naivety of adolescence is tempered by the wisdom earned through experience. In this juncture, the realization dawns that time is both a relentless force and a patient companion — a paradoxical dance that molds us into the individuals we are destined to become.

 

Half my lifetime is not merely a chronological marker but a reflection of growth, resilience, and the inexorable passage of time. It is an acknowledgment that the journey is far from over, and the best chapters are yet to be written. The tapestry of life, now adorned with the vibrant hues of experiences, becomes a canvas upon which I continue to paint my story.

 

As I blow out the candles on the 25th birthday cake, I am filled with gratitude for the myriad moments that have defined this quarter-century voyage. The laughter, tears, triumphs, and defeats have sculpted a version of myself that is both familiar and novel — a work in progress, a masterpiece in the making.

 

Half my lifetime is not just a milestone but a celebration of resilience, growth, and the infinite possibilities that lie ahead. With every passing day, I embrace the journey, eager to unravel the mysteries of the unwritten chapters, to discover the untold stories that will shape the symphony of my life.