>>41242910
What keeps them up at night

They lie awake, tracing shadows on the ceiling like maps of thoughts they never spoke. Not regrets, not quite. More like fragments of moments that never found a voice - - how your laughter echoed in rooms they never revisited, or the way your silence filled the spaces after.

They remember the almosts.
The conversations they rehearsed but never delivered.
The truths they edited to protect your feelings or preserve their pride.

Sleep eludes them because the night demands honesty, and honesty, at that hour, is a cruel companion.

And in the middle of it all - - your name.
Not always in words, but in feeling. A weight. A warmth. A wound.