Valentine's
The longing feels heavier than usual tonight. It’s the same ache I’ve poured into songs, scribbles, and unfinished lines for years, but right now it’s sharper like a hum that just won’t quiet. I tried singing it out, hoping it might loosen, but the feeling only settled in deeper.That lake from my dreams has been sticking with me, glowing with moonlight that never quite feels real. I always end up on its shore, waiting for someone to step out of the night, but no one ever comes. The restlessness follows me even after I wake up. Stella has barely left my side; she curls against me as if she knows I need anchoring. Writing it all down helps, just a bit. It’s the only way the ache feels less endless, at least for now.
The dream has changed ever since the girl in the lake started appearing. Before, the lake was just there quiet, familiar, never really mine. I’d walk the shore under moonlight, chasing an ache I couldn’t name.Now, everything shifts when she’s there. She’s still nameless, her face never fully clear, but lately I’ve begun to notice flashes of red hair and eyes catching the moonlight. Each time she appears, I remember more how the light glances off her, how her presence tugs at something deep inside me. It’s as if my longing is stitching together pieces the dream once kept hidden.I can’t reach her or call out, but the dream isn’t the same anymore, and neither am I. Every morning, traces linger; a color, a feeling, a question I didn’t know I was supposed to ask. Each night she returns, a little more vivid, a little more solid, but always just out of reach. I keep telling myself it’s only a dream, but some part of me wonders if it’s becoming something more.
The longing feels heavier than usual tonight. It’s the same ache I’ve poured into songs, scribbles, and unfinished lines for years, but right now it’s sharper like a hum that just won’t quiet. I tried singing it out, hoping it might loosen, but the feeling only settled in deeper.That lake from my dreams has been sticking with me, glowing with moonlight that never quite feels real. I always end up on its shore, waiting for someone to step out of the night, but no one ever comes. The restlessness follows me even after I wake up. Stella has barely left my side; she curls against me as if she knows I need anchoring. Writing it all down helps, just a bit. It’s the only way the ache feels less endless, at least for now.
The dream has changed ever since the girl in the lake started appearing. Before, the lake was just there quiet, familiar, never really mine. I’d walk the shore under moonlight, chasing an ache I couldn’t name.Now, everything shifts when she’s there. She’s still nameless, her face never fully clear, but lately I’ve begun to notice flashes of red hair and eyes catching the moonlight. Each time she appears, I remember more how the light glances off her, how her presence tugs at something deep inside me. It’s as if my longing is stitching together pieces the dream once kept hidden.I can’t reach her or call out, but the dream isn’t the same anymore, and neither am I. Every morning, traces linger; a color, a feeling, a question I didn’t know I was supposed to ask. Each night she returns, a little more vivid, a little more solid, but always just out of reach. I keep telling myself it’s only a dream, but some part of me wonders if it’s becoming something more.