23rd

The 23rd used to be a date I looked forward to.
A small anchor in the middle of the month. A day that tasted like laughter, shared moments, and that quiet feeling that life was exactly as it was meant to be.

Today, that same number carries a different weight. Not because the date has changed, but because memories sometimes become heavier than we ever expected them to be.

I often catch myself wondering what could have been. Not out of regret, but because some connections feel so effortless that it's impossible not to imagine the roads they might have taken. Roads that perhaps were never meant to exist. Not because they were wrong, but because life sometimes places more obstacles in our path than two people can overcome.

The 23rd is still there. Only the feeling attached to it has changed. Anticipation has turned into quiet reflection. Lightness into a gentle ache somewhere between the heart and the mind.

And perhaps that is the hardest part of all: accepting that not everything that feels right is meant to find its place in our lives.