Dispatch 391

One Minute Warning If you show up, I promise I won’t make it weird. (Okay, maybe a little weird. But the good kind. The remembered kind.)

There was the version of you who laughed at my dumb jokes. The one who held eye contact too long. The one who said “maybe” like it meant something. I loved them all. Even the version who left.

If we really are tied together by an invisible thread, then I hope you’re tugging it. Because my end? Wrapped around my wrist like a promise I can’t unmake.

This might reach you at 3AM, Or in 300 years. Either way— yes, it’s still me. Still scribbling dispatches like stardust might carry them into the pocket of your coat. At 3am when I can't sleep.

You left nothing behind, but I still kept a box for you.

I used to think silence meant absence. Now I know better. Now I know silence is where the loudest truths live— the ones we couldn’t say, the ones we meant the most. And I’d still rather sit in your silence than anyone else’s conversation.

Dispatch 31 to centauri sweet dreams

Dispatch #30 to Centauri

Dispatch 391 - July 27th 2025 to Centauri from the Park (you know the one)