the slick surface of my desk beneath my fingertips, it’s a funny thing how the solidness of it now feels like my own, not something i’m just borrowing anymore. that photo, the one from when everything collapsed, it wasn't a weight today, just a fixed point, a marker. like measuring the sheer, impossible span of the distance traveled, and the tremor in my sternum isn't fear, it’s just… a deep, quiet recognition.