Dream On

by Jennifer Hartmann

“The quiet doesn’t sound as loud when you’re around.”

I think, sometimes, love isn’t always in the ones who stick around. It’s in the missing pieces—the holes carved out, the gaps that strain and stretch. You notice when it leaves, the quiet, empty moments where absence lingers, and you feel the weight of what’s gone. It’s in the spaces where something used to be, in the silence that follows, in the ache that reminds you it was once there.

“But I have two hands that will hold you forever, a voice that will sing to you until we take our last breaths, and eyes that will see you for all that you are, every day, every minute, just as you’ve seen me.” He pulls me closer, our hairlines touching. “You’re it for me, Nicks. You’ve always been it for me.”