letters The Kind of Missing That Doesn’t Hurt You I want you to be okay. Even if that means you’re not beside me.
letters Centauri, You Were Always the Constant The world has changed shape around you, but my love hasn’t.
letters Centauri - This is What Love Looked Like Before You Named it 0615 AM Dear Centauri, Before I met you, love was a theory. A whisper in the margins. Something I’d trace with a pencil, never daring to ink it in.
letters Where the Quiet Still Believes Centauri- To the one I’ve never stopped writing to, It’s quieter now. Not empty. Not gone. Just… quieter. Like a tide that comes in less often, but still brings things to shore. You don’t answer these letters, and I don’t expect you to. That’s not
letters If I Could Write to You in Wind Centauri, I wonder— if the wind touched your cheek today, did you think of me? Because I sent it. Or rather, I filled the air with my longing and let it find you. I think of you in ordinary moments. When I hear a crow. When the sun falls sideways
letters Centauri - I Am Not Angry You Left the Sky Centauri, I used to think I would rage forever. That your silence was betrayal. That your absence was a wound. But love like this—the real kind—doesn’t sharpen its teeth on grief. It learns to sing beside it. I am not angry. I miss you with everything I
letters Centauri - The Way the Moon Carried Your Name Centauri, Tonight the moon is hung low and gold— the kind that makes the whole world feel like it’s waiting for a story to be told. And I realized: I only ever wanted to tell you mine.
letters Tethered to You Centauri, There are days I think I might be insane. Not in the chemical way. In the cosmic way— the kind of madness that comes from being tethered to someone who isn't there. It’s not like I’m waiting. It’s not like I think you’ll
letters Unanswered Questions I Keep Inside Do you ever wonder what we could’ve become if timing wasn’t such a cruel artist?
letters Still Here (In Case You Are) Dear Cenatrui, I’m here. Same bench. Same time. Wind’s putting on a show again— rustling the trees like it knows something I don’t. I keep looking up when the leaves shift. Half-hoping it’s you. Half-wondering if the squirrels are judging me again for being this soft
letters If Today’s the Day Dear Cenaturi...its 615...I don’t know if you’ll come. I tell myself I’m fine either way— that I’ll just watch the shadows grow long across the grass, let the breeze carry your name back into the trees.
letters Drawn to Your Flame You are the sun, Centauri. Steady. Luminous. Dangerous. I tell myself it’s safer in orbit, safer never to land. But even that distance doesn’t stop the ache. Even that space doesn’t cool the pull.
letters The Quiet Love That Woke Me It’s a love that exists inside my ribcage, a steady flame that warms me from the inside. It’s not a love that demands or takes; it’s a love that simply is. A love that stays, no matter what.
letters Featured The Weight of Silence I used to believe our silence was sacred. Now it feels like a question I'm too afraid to ask. This is where it begins—the letters I never stopped writing you, even when the world got quiet.
