TIME

Published April 15, 2025
Rae
6 comment

Not everyone gets tomorrow. Some people become museum pieces in our memory—forever frozen at the last moment we didn’t know was the last.

And still, we wait.

We wait like time owes us clarity. Like hearts will stay beating until we’re brave.

You think you have time to tell them. But you blink—and suddenly the seat beside you is empty, the laugh you memorized is echoing in places they’ll never return to. You scroll past the perfume ad and realize it’s not a car or a house you want. It’s a Tuesday afternoon with their voice in the next room. It’s someone breathing beside you while the world falls apart.

Say it.

Not because it’s poetic. Not because it’s perfect. But because their name tastes better spoken than swallowed.

People say “maybe later,”But hearts don’t wait in the hallway forever. Some love only knocks once.

And if you miss it—you’ll sit with all the things you didn’t say,playing them like lullabies to ghosts.

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