Wednesday
Wellknown Ace
Lately, I’ve been haunted — not by ghosts (I wish it were that simple), but by memories.
Old friends. Conversations that once glowed faintly in the dark, now nothing more than ashes in the corners of my mind.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How people can vanish without dying.
One day they’re laughing beside you, the next, you only remember the echo of their words. I like to think they’re out there, somewhere, walking through their own strange storms — alive, growing, perhaps even happy.
Still… I miss them.
Not in the desperate, clinging way. Just softly — like missing the scent of rain or the sound of an old song.
If any of you still linger here, in this quiet little corner of the internet, consider this my candle left in the window.
No pressure. No expectations. Just a hope that maybe, one night, you’ll wander back.
Until then,
I’ll keep listening for footsteps in the silence.
— Wednesday

Old friends. Conversations that once glowed faintly in the dark, now nothing more than ashes in the corners of my mind.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How people can vanish without dying.
One day they’re laughing beside you, the next, you only remember the echo of their words. I like to think they’re out there, somewhere, walking through their own strange storms — alive, growing, perhaps even happy.
Still… I miss them.
Not in the desperate, clinging way. Just softly — like missing the scent of rain or the sound of an old song.
If any of you still linger here, in this quiet little corner of the internet, consider this my candle left in the window.
No pressure. No expectations. Just a hope that maybe, one night, you’ll wander back.
Until then,
I’ll keep listening for footsteps in the silence.
— Wednesday

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