Timeline
Dead serious.
I used to dive in without a life jacket: “I’ll fix it, they’ll get it, it’ll get better right now.”
And they’d be gulping
The kind that happens when the world slows down — warm tea in hand, soft light, no rush.
You talk about everything and nothing.
Laughter
Not the caffeine, not the habit — the ritual. The quiet moment when the world is still half–asleep and the aroma rises like a soft whisper.
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Not in a wild way—just warm, close, comforting.
Like they fit into your day in the nicest little space.
I wonder whose mind I sit in like
