Everything I Wanted You to Know

Imagine yourself standing by that old window where we spent years watching the rain blur the world outside. Do you remember how I’d insist on leaving a tiny crack in the frame just to let the breeze slip through, while you’d rush to seal it shut, terrified I’d catch a chill? Today, I am standing in that very spot. But it isn’t the cold I feel—the cold you were so afraid of—it’s the hollow resonance left behind by your overprotective care. I found that little succulent behind the bookshelf today, the one you gave me last winter. You told me it didn't need much, just a sliver of light and a pati...