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I didn’t know my heart still had electricity in it. I thought the rooms were closed, the windows dusted over, the lights switched off for good. Then you smiled. And something soft and sudden flickered. Not loud. Not fireworks. Just a small, steady glow like a porch light left on for someone finally coming home. Now we talk until the moon gets tired of listening. 3 a.m. feels like minutes. Your laugh spills through my phone speaker and somehow fills my whole room. We text about nothing about everything about the way coffee tastes better when you know someone’s thinking of you. You call during small moments. “Just because.” And somehow those are the biggest ones. It feels like standing in sunlight after convincing yourself you deserved the rain. I catch myself smiling at my screen. Re-reading your words. Imagining future memories that haven’t happened yet but feel certain. Like this is the start of something gentle and real. Like you were the missing piece I didn’t know how to name. And now here you are not fixing me, not saving me just choosing me. And in that choice my heart remembers how to turn the lights back on.
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Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 1:09 AM UTC
A Light I Thought Was Gone
I didn’t know my heart still had electricity in it. I thought the rooms were closed, the windows dusted over, the lights switched off for good. Then you smiled. And something soft and sudden flickered. Not loud. Not fireworks. Just a small, steady glow like a porch light left on for someone finally coming home. Now we talk until the moon gets tired of listening. 3 a.m. feels like minutes. Your laugh spills through my phone speaker and somehow fills my whole room. We text about nothing about everything about the way coffee tastes better when you know someone’s thinking of you. You call during small moments. “Just because.” And somehow those are the biggest ones. It feels like standing in sunlight after convincing yourself you deserved the rain. I catch myself smiling at my screen. Re-reading your words. Imagining future memories that haven’t happened yet but feel certain. Like this is the start of something gentle and real. Like you were the missing piece I didn’t know how to name. And now here you are not fixing me, not saving me just choosing me. And in that choice my heart remembers how to turn the lights back on.
Shroom
Written by
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 1:09 AM UTC
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