Love Was Written

  Tala, I don't know if you still let people call you that. Maybe it's just "T" now. Or something cooler, cleaner, more you-but-not-me. But you'll always be Tala to me. Star, light, orbit, everything I couldn't reach but tried anyway. I keep wondering.. how much of you is still the you I knew? Like, do you still hate soggy fries but eat them anyway because you don't like wasting food? Do you still do that little twitch with your left eyebrow when you're pretending you're okay but you're really not? Do you still fall asleep to sad songs on purpose? I don't mean to sound creepy. God. This is coming out wrong. What I mean is.. I'm scared that the version of you I love is already fading. Like a photo left out in the sun too long. I saw a picture of you. Just one someone else posted. You looked.. older, maybe. Different. Happier? I didn't know how to feel. Part of me wanted to print it and tape it to my wall. Part of me wanted to cry. Mo...

hi. i’m not sure how to begin, so maybe i’ll start with this: i think i love like someone who’s always been told they’re too much. so i give people little pieces of myself, quietly, slowly. like i’m afraid they’ll flinch. i overthink texts. i say “sorry” even when i’m not wrong. i remember the smallest things, like the way people take their coffee or what song they skip halfway through. i fall for the details. and that’s probably why i noticed you in the first place. i don’t know you, not really. but the idea of you lives in my head like a song i haven’t heard all the way through. just a few notes, looping. and i want to know more. not just your favorite color, but the way you say it. not just your birthday, but how you feel about getting older. this is me introducing myself without saying my name. because maybe this isn’t about names. maybe it’s about the timing of two people wondering if the other is out there wondering too. so, hi. again. i’m your almost. your maybe. your stranger w...