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As someone who enjoys being alone, I have always found comfort in corners. I prefer observing to participating, listening until the air asks for my voice, existing without needing to be noticed. Crowded spaces don’t intimidate me, but they drain me in ways I rarely bother to explain. It is a rare relief when someone chooses to sit with me there, not to pull me into the crowd, not to fill the silence, just to be present, sharing the moment with me. There is something deeply healing about a person who understands that presence is enough. Someone who sees my solitude not as a distress signal to be rescued from, but as a space to be respected. And in that gentle shared stillness, the room softens. The frantic energy of the party fades into a distant hum. I realized then that love does not always demand a stage. Sometimes it simply pulls up a chair, sets down its glass, and stays, steady and calm, like afternoon rain. M. | afternoon rain February 2026

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It’s strange how certain habits are not entirely yours from the beginning. You catch yourself taking the longer route home, humming songs you once played together, ordering the same drink they liked, or rereading their favourite books without thinking. At first, it feels like an echo, a quiet trace of someone who is no longer there. But slowly, the pieces settle into you. The songs stop sounding like memories and start sounding like home. The gestures and small comforts that once belonged to someone else now weave quietly into your life, forming a rhythm you recognize, though it could never become fully yours. Maybe love never truly leaves. It just changes shape. It becomes part of the way you live, part of the way you move through ordinary days. And when you look back, you just remember sharing those little things with someone, the ordinary moments that felt extraordinary because they were with them. M. | nostalgia of some sort February 2026

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I think I’ve been away from myself for a while. Not lost, just elsewhere. I don’t know when I stopped choosing myself so carefully, when I began delaying joy and postponing care as if they were luxuries instead of necessities. Somewhere along the way, I kept saying “later” to the things that needed me. But lately feels different. I feel present in my own skin again, softer, slower, more aware. I am listening. And perhaps it begins with a small step to stay here, to trust this moment. There may be a quiet power in choosing yourself, and maybe growth comes from simply being present with yourself. M. | here, alone February 2026

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Let’s outrun the ticking hours and laugh like we’re not counting them. Let’s chase the night until it spills into dawn. Let’s fill it with everything we’ve been holding back, steal every fleeting second, and burn it bright. If this is all we’re given, then let’s spend it wildly, like we’re already losing it. Hold each other as if the stars themselves are watching, as if this night might be the only one we ever get. M. | chasing night February 2026

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How perfect it is to find someone who has never reminded you of anyone. Everything about them feels new, the way they laugh, the way they think, the gentle way they exist beside you. Even their voice and presence bring a peaceful calm, like a late afternoon breeze brushing gently against your skin. You have always been drawn to the moon and the vast night skies, and yet when you think of them, you see sunlight flickers through the trees, brushing across their face as you lie together, the grass soft beneath you, the air warm and still. Every movement, every glance is unfamiliar, and yet it feels effortless, a presence you can rest in, an ease that flows through every part of you, settling like gentle light in your chest. It is as if the universe paused for a moment to create and place someone entirely unexpected in your path, not as what has come before, but as a new chapter, a soft beginning. And in that unfamiliarity, you discover them slowly, without fear, and love them gently, without comparison, with a gratitude that feels almost like destiny. M. | the moon & its sun February 2026

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"Because I know you." It’s probably one of the most intimate things one could say to another. It’s a simple sentence, almost ordinary, almost laughably small. I sent him a picture of the drinks my friend and I had, a matcha and a café latte. He asked, “Did your friend like the matcha?” Not even asking about the latte. When I asked how he knew I had the café latte, he said, “Because I know you, Mila.” Being known like that feels different, steady, uncomplicated. Like someone has been paying attention without announcing that they were, the way he remembers how I take my coffee without asking. It isn’t about the drink. It was never about the drink. It’s the small things that make me feel seen and remembered, the quiet evidence that I exist in his mind, that he has memorized the small, unremarkable pieces of me and kept them somewhere safe. As if remembering me was habit, as if knowing me was the most natural thing in the world. For a moment, suspended somewhere between that sentence and my own quiet smile, I wished I could stay there forever, up in the clouds where something so small could mean everything. M. | coffee & clouds February 2026

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Maybe there is no happy ending for us. Maybe there are only little stops along the way. Moments where the light hits just right, brief pockets of joy where we are allowed to breathe before life moves again. And we keep going. So take the chance. Be delusional. Fall in love even if your heart trembles. Let it break if it must, but love anyway. You’ll learn what feels like home and what doesn’t. And what you want, what you won’t beg for again. Be delusional about your own happiness. Let yourself believe you can try everything, no matter how it turns out. Be absolutely happy with little wins. Celebrate the mornings you get up when the world feels too much, the risks you took, the times you chose yourself without asking for permission. Live the story you want to remember. Be reckless with hope. Be loud with peace. Be soft without apology. Be strange. Be entirely yourself. We are not getting out of here alive anyway. Leave marks on people, on memories, on your own becoming. Love hard. Try again. Break. Heal. Begin again. Do not exit this life having only half felt it. At least these are the things I tell myself. I am not there yet… but I am on my way. M. | little stops February 2026

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