10/20/2025
Everything beautiful is on borrowed time.
The sunsets, the laughter, the hands we hold too tightly.
Moments never ask permission to leave,
they just do.
Quietly. Softly. Like the last light sinking into the sea.
The world has a way of taking what we love
not with a bang, but with silence.
One day the laughter dulls,
the air shifts,
the warmth that once wrapped us like a blanket
starts to loosen its hold.
And still, we stand there,
trying to hold the tide with open palms.
We tell ourselves we’re ready.
But no one ever is.
No one ever really learns how to say goodbye
to something that once felt infinite.
And still, we stay,
because some things are too precious to rush,
because this moment, right now,
is louder than the ending that’s waiting.
We trace the edges of every second
like we could keep it from slipping.
We memorize faces in the half-light,
as if love alone could keep them here.
If something can break us this deeply,
it means it made us feel alive first.
It means we lived a story
that was worth the ruin.
The kind you’ll carry long after the light fades,
like a scar that doesn’t hurt anymore,
but still remembers.
So if all of this is borrowed,
then let the world take what it must.
Let time move as it always does.
I’ll love you anyway,
not because it’s forever,
but because it’s now.
A heartbeat, a breath,
a laugh that dared to stay,
a touch that didn’t promise forever but felt like it,
a moment that became a universe,
even if it was born from temporary.
