A New Kind Of Light. AI-Generated.
A Brand-New Light Lavender skies have a way of making you believe in magic, even if only for a brief moment. As if trying to calm the heart, they sweep across the heavens like soft watercolor strokes, painting the world in soft purples and blues. They blur the line between reality and dreams for a brief golden moment. However, there are times when everything else is falling apart and the most beautiful things occur simultaneously. I remember those evenings most for the silence, not the colors. More than any words could say, the soft mist of silence that settled between us spoke. I would sit next to you and pretend that the peace of the silence and the security of your presence were sufficient. Night after night, clinging to a routine that once felt like love, we watched the light fade together. Perhaps it was once love. Maybe it still was, in a different form. But love is not static. It expands, develops, or withers in the corners of denial. Although admitting it meant confronting a reality neither of us was prepared to face, I think we were both aware that it was passing through our hands. Empty hearts do not break in a dramatic manner. They don't blow up. They echo. They continue. like going through the same room in a house that doesn't feel like home anymore. I started to feel the weight of your hand in mine; it didn't feel like it was heavier out of comfort but out of reluctance. From endless daydreams to grocery lists and dinner plans, our conversations changed. You once mentioned running away to faraway lands and chasing the stars until they ran out of fuel. I used to think you meant what you said. However, over time, even your voice seemed to get sick of playing pretend. The fighting did not cause the most harm. We barely fought. The silence was the cause. the consistent withdrawal When your eyes met mine, they stopped flashing. The way I stopped checking my phone for your name. Erosion rather than an explosion was the cause. Consistent, quiet, and unseen until we were already standing in the rubble. We loved each other the way we brushed our teeth or locked the door before bed. Habitually, not with passion. something routine. something we did unconsciously, as if loving others was just a daily chore. It became noise in the background. Perhaps trustworthy, but no longer alive. Still, the sky remained beautiful. That was what really cut. The world outside was vibrant, brilliant, full of color and light. Nevertheless, I felt gray. The sunsets made fun of us. They painted the world as if nothing had changed, despite the fact that everything within me had. Their colors were too beautiful to describe. I believed they had once belonged to us and made me long for something I couldn't name. I started to realize that love and beauty don't always align. That what looks soft and serene can mask emptiness. That a smile can mean survival rather than joy. that a lavender sky can shine over a love that is fading. We held on, perhaps not because we believed, but because we were afraid to let go. because we were unsure of what life would be like without the "us" to which we had become accustomed. But sometimes, it is in letting go that we discover a new kind of light.
a light that comes from within us, not painted on the sky. A light that comes not from shared routines, but from the rediscovery of ourselves. Honesty shines through, and endings pave the way for new beginnings. It doesn't always look good. It flickers at times. It sometimes hides behind fearful clouds. However, it is there. Waiting.
Lavender skies still come. I watch them alone now. Additionally, I no longer see only sadness in their diminishing brilliance. I see change. I see progress. Even when you don't yet know where you're going, it takes quiet courage to move forward. That is also a form of magic. This is also a novel kind of light.
