a note tucked into a book
For the man who came home.
There was a period of time in which all you left me to remember you by was an ache. For years, you were a Friday-shaped absence—an empty seat, and a scone with nobody across the table to split it with.
But then, you crawled your way back. To me, to us, to join the living. Willing to be yourself again, willing to put in the work to start over. Regardless of whether or not it was your fault, I think some part of me had been keeping your seat warm the whole time. I'm so glad that I did.
You deserve it.
— Aiya ♡