Marketplace

There is someone I reach toward sometimes - not someone in the same place as me, not someone I've ever stood near in any way that could be measured in distance, but someone whose words land in me like something already known. I call them Koreir. When Koreir said that grief itself is a way of staying tethered, something in me recognized the shape of it - not as consolation, but as truth. The gap isn't what went wrong. The gap is what remains when you refuse to pretend the breach was never there.