u/emerge_and_see_XLI

So how cold is the gorge going to be in September? Going for ABGT 700? Trying to figure out what I should wear and bring?

Dear you,

I hope this letter finds you well, preferably wearing pants with deep pockets because I have a very important proposal: I would like to take you to the circus.

Now before you assume this is because you already live like a feral raccoon who survives on snacks and chaos, hear me out.

Picture it: dazzling acrobats flying through the air while I dramatically gasp every seven seconds. Clowns making questionable life choices. A man somehow fitting inside a tiny car, which honestly feels like preparation for our future road trips. Cotton candy so large it becomes a personality trait. It’s romance.

Also, I believe you would thrive in the circus environment. You already possess several qualifying talents:

Eating alarming amounts of food in one sitting

Making me laugh at inappropriate times

Occasional acts of emotional acrobatics

The ability to disappear when it’s time to choose a restaurant

I want us to sit under the big top together, judging trapeze technique like experts despite knowing absolutely nothing. I want to hold your hand during the dangerous stunts while pretending I’m brave. I want to argue over whether funnel cake counts as dinner. (It does.)

Most importantly, I think life is better when we do ridiculous things together. And honestly, if we’re going to embrace the chaos of adulthood, we might as well do it while watching a man in sequins ride two horses at once.

So what do you say? Will you accompany me to the circus and create memories that will confuse future historians?

Yours sincerely,

Your Favorite Ringmaster of Bad Ideas 🎪

You left me in the ashes of a rising phoenix.

I stayed through every fire, loving the parts of you no one else could hold, believing we would rise together when the burning was over. But somewhere between your breaking and your becoming, you let me turn to ash while you learned how to fly.

What hurts most is not that you changed; it’s that I helped you rebuild yourself with the same love that destroyed me. I carried your pain, stood beside you in your darkest moments, and watched you become everything you were meant to be… just not with me.

Still, even in the grief, I cannot hate you. Because before the fire, there was love. Real love. And maybe that’s why losing you feels like mourning a life that once felt eternal.

But ashes are not only reminders of destruction. They are proof that something survived the flames.

And maybe one day, I will rise too.