The Soul I Still Miss

There was a moment — a stretch of months, really — when our conversations cracked something open in me.

It was late nights and voice notes. Honesty layered on honesty. Laughter, always laughter, but also something more rare: being understood. Not just for the surface shine, but for the contradictions. The grief beneath the glamour. The soft underbelly most people never notice — or don’t care to hold.