Dream On

by Jennifer Hartmann

“Eventually, you’ll realize there are no good days. There are just days, nights, and all the monotonous bullshit in between.”

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.