StrzSturn1olo
"Sometimes I wonder what type of poems I would've written if you stayed."
Eliza loved deeply, but never loudly. Her heart didn't ask for grand gestures or spotlighted moments - just quiet presence, steady warmth, and someone who saw her without needing to be told. Even at her happiest, she braced for the ending. As if joy was something borrowed, not owned. As if letting herself feel it fully would make it slip faster through her fingers. She had learned to prepare for goodbye, even while still holding on.