the way the light catches the edge of my iced matcha glass, a shimmering distraction, makes my vision blur just a little and i can feel that specific tremor right behind my left ear, the one that used to signal something was off, a warning, but now it’s just this strange, almost tender hum, like a distant engine finally finding its rhythm, and that’s the wild thing about it, how the sudden empty space in the , the unexpected gift of un-plans, can feel like both a deep breath that expands my lungs until they ache with RELIEF, and at the very same moment, this weird, hollow resonance in the throat, a reminder of the vast, intricate network of human connection that sometimes feels like a burden and sometimes like the only thing keeping me afloat, it’s not a sadness, not really, more like the precise, intricate geometry of what it means to be both completely fine on your own and simultaneously craving the specific friction of another human being, and beans just blinked slowly from the couch, completely oblivious to this whole, intricate, ridiculous ballet happening beneath my skin in chicago in the middle of a perfect summer day.