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August 17 - August 23, 2025
“The Sparrow.” It’s a reverential prayer. The sound of hope that I’ve come to know. A secret kinship, bonded by suffering that transcends blood.
I might have been abandoned here, left in a cage. Maybe my wings have been clipped. But I can still fly.
Memories take hold in the silence. Pain dulls with time, but can still linger, waiting to be polished so it can shine once more.
“God, yes. But what if you couldn’t find me?” My strokes slow. I hold her gaze. The urge to kiss her steals my breath. It takes every last thread of my restraint not to do it, and it leaves nothing else behind. Maybe she won’t see that every barrier I try to keep up has crumbled, if only for a heartbeat, when I say, “I will always find you, Rose.”
“It’s okay to love your darkness and still love yourself. It doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you a whole one.”
“Yeah. You’re definitely not. You’ve been stickered. You’re part of the sticker-bitch crew now. Count yourself lucky she didn’t put them on your tits.”
But it’s not just the sex. That’s only a bonus, if I’m being truly honest with myself. Every spare minute I want to spend with Rose.
But I finally realize I don’t care about the illusion of light anymore. My Rose blooms in the dark. And all I want is to grow there with her.
“It’s over because I love you, Rose. I’m sorry I spent so much time and effort trying not to. It was only because I didn’t think it was safe for you. I don’t think I knew how to fit into your wide-open world. But from the very first glance, from the first word, I was caught in your gravity. I wanted to be near you. And I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. But, lately, that’s the only thing in our cards, it seems.”
Every day we write each other letters. Every evening we read them out loud. We talk through the way we feel. Sometimes we make love. Sometimes we fuck. Sometimes we fight. Or we laugh. Or we cry. But every day we heal.
