The Slow Departure

🐾 𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆:I don’t ask for reassurance often—but when it comes, it hits like a drug.Scratch me behind the ears—I’ll follow you around for hours. I’ve learned to be steady—after years of stumbling.I don’t need managing—but I do need respect.I carry what’s mine—some loads just took longer…

For the women who sensed more beneath the stillness:He wasn’t cold.He was paused—waiting to see if warmth was allowed.Some men grew up learning that warmth was dangerous.If he stayed still, it may not have been indifference.It may have been hope, holding its breath.

You’re not broken.You’ve just been braced for too long. A man who sees that won’t rush to fix you.He won’t offer tools.He’ll offer space. The right kind of space rewires everything.And the ones who get that—really get it—don’t come in trying to fix you.They make the space feel safe enough to take the brace off….

I’ve watched people cling to apologies because hope feels safer than grief.But grief is honest. It frees you.Hope is beautiful, but not every situation—or every person—deserves yours.

Living by the ocean, this is the sign I look for every year that winter has finally broke. The coast is waking up today! The first ribbon of water opening as the ice breaks and separates, and the first of the fleet being moved into place. The lobsters are coming out of hibernation, and the…