originally written july 2026

i take pictures of the fish we caught, silver & still on the kitchen counter.

and it unsettles me because i’ve spent my whole life feeling like a fish out of water, homesick for somewhere i’ve never belonged. sometimes i look at those fish and think i understand:

pulled from the only place they knew,

dropped somewhere bright & unfamiliar.

sometimes loving someone at this age feels like lying on a teenage boy’s kitchen counter, heart open & shining, wondering if being held is the same thing as being home.