I miss connection more than I ever thought I could. Not just the small talk or the convenience of company; but the real, soul-deep kind. The quiet understanding. The laughter that comes too easily. The presence of someone who sees you, really sees you, and stays.
It’s in the eye contact that lingers a second longer. The comfortable silence that says, you’re not alone. The late-night conversations, the shoulder brushes, the shared air of belonging.
I miss what it feels like to be known. To be tethered, not out of need, but out of choice.
And in this space where connection once lived, there’s a hollow echo I carry around, hoping that someone will answer back.
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