it's that weird in-between time, isn't it? not quite night, not quite day. not really happy, not really sad. just… existing. like a blurry photograph, all edges softened. maybe i'm afraid to want things because wanting is just setting yourself up for another kind of disappointment like waiting for the snow to melt and finding only dead grass underneath. but then sometimes, like today, the sun hits the window just right, and for a second, the whole room glows and priya's laugh echoes in my head, and it's almost enough to believe something good could last, maybe even longer than a moment. almost. Beans is purring on my lap, it's a small warmth but a warmth nonetheless, a tiny flicker in the endless dark.