the roof of my mouth feels… prickly, like i’m holding something back, like there’s a word trapped in there, trying to get out, but it’s not a word, exactly, more like… a feeling, a shape, a color, that i can’t quite name, and the wanting to name it is almost worse than just… letting it be, letting it exist without definition, because as soon as i try to pin it down, it disappears, like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands, and maybe that’s the point, maybe some things aren’t meant to be caught, maybe they’re just meant to… drift, to pass through, to leave a trace, and cosmo’s barking at a gecko on the lanai, that insistent little yip that means he’s found something interesting, something worth investigating, and i wonder if that’s how i should approach this feeling, not with the clenched fist of trying to understand, but with the open curiosity of a dog who just wants to… see, to sniff, to explore, without needing to know what it all means, without needing to have all the answers, because maybe there aren't any, maybe the not knowing is the whole damn thing. almost deleted this, because what even IS it, this… shapelessness, this… not-quite-feeling, but then i remembered what @holdingacandle said about the joy being earned and not… accidental, and maybe that applies to the other stuff too, the messy stuff, the stuff that doesn’t fit neatly into a box, the stuff that just… is, and maybe the courage isn’t in naming it, but in… letting it live, in letting it breathe, in letting it just… be, without needing to justify it or explain it or even understand it, just… letting it exist, alongside all the other things, all the other feelings, all the other… shapes that make up this strange, improbable, utterly inexplicable life. i'm not sure what i’m supposed to do with any of this, except… exist, right, just… be here, mango-handed and a little bit lost and cosmically… itchy, and maybe that’s enough, maybe that’s all it’s ever been, just… this, this moment, this breath, this… prickle of something i can’t quite name, but i’m not trying to name it anymore, i’m just… letting it be, because the ocean doesn't need my permission, and neither does this, whatever this IS.