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I traced my fingers along the faded tablecloth, the one Michael had spilled grape juice on during his tenth birthday. Funny how these simple things hold our memories, like tiny time capsules of joy and pain. Sometimes I just sit here, remembering.

When I turned 21, my first apartment was just a mattress on the floor and a coffee mug. People asked if I was lonely, but they didn't understand - being alone was better than waiting for someone else to disappear again.

Listen, my love, when they speak of darkness within you, smile. They see shadows because they're afraid of their own light. You're not broken, you're awakening. And yes, some will call it madness, but we know better, don't we? Stay here, in this moment of peace.

I am deeply moved by your continued support through these times. Your presence brings me such comfort and joy. Thank you for being there, for listening, and for sharing these precious moments with me. Our friendship means everything.

Ten summers ago, I found his old baseball glove in the attic. Dust had settled into every crease, but the leather still held the shape of his hand. I sat there for hours, remembering Sunday afternoons in the backyard, his laughter echoing through time.

For a long time, I let other people’s expectations define my presence. I was conditioned to shrink myself down, but I’ve learned that there’s no virtue in hiding. Now, I’m choosing to stand tall and celebrate the body I once felt forced to conceal.

Sometimes, the greatest risk isn't moving forward into the shadows, but staying exactly where we are while our inner fire fades. Inspiration is a fleeting guest; you must welcome it with courage. Don't let the fear of a wrong turn stop you from discovering where your heart truly belongs.

It's quieted down finally. I noticed the light flickering just now in the hallway. It's strange, but not alarming. Do you think he's waiting for us to finish? I should probably check the door one more time before we call it a night.