June 2026
Where we began.
Everything I’m trying to say on this page started here. I didn’t know yet how completely you’d change the shape of my days — only that I didn’t want to spend one more of them without you in it.
Muksan
Muskan to everyone else. Muksan to me.
I’m not very good with words.
I never really have been. I go quiet at exactly the moments I should be saying the most, and the things I feel the strongest are the ones I struggle hardest to get out.
So I made this instead — somewhere I could finally say a few of them. Take your time. There’s no rush, the same way there’s never a rush with you.
thank you — for all of it
The thousand small things.
- For all the small things you do that you think slip by unnoticed. They don’t. I notice every one.
- For making the heavy days feel lighter, just by being somewhere inside them.
- For your patience with me — especially on the days I’m the one making it hard.
- For carrying so much, so quietly — and never once making me feel like a burden for it.
It’s a lot, Muksan. More than I let on — and I’m grateful for every bit of it.
🐣a place for you
you’re on my mind
Here, or not here.
When you’re with me, I’m thinking of you. When you’re not, I’m still thinking of you.
You’re in the quiet moments and the loud ones — the ordinary days, and the ones I’ll never forget.
our story
Us — the long version.
Here’s how it’s actually gone. I’ll keep adding to it, for as long as you’ll let me.
GMIU
The day I broke in, just to say sorry.
You teach law at GMIU — which makes it a genuinely ridiculous place for me to have snuck into. But some apologies can’t wait for the right moment, and they can’t be typed out on a screen. So I found my way in, past where I almost certainly shouldn’t have, just to stand in front of you and say it properly. I’d do it again tomorrow.
… and everything still to come.
the song you played me
By My Side.
You played this for me once. Now I can’t hear it without thinking of you — which, lately, is most of the time.
the red thread
An old story says the two people meant to find each other are tied together by a single red thread.
It can stretch. It can tangle. But it never breaks. I think ours found us a long time ago.
— tied, they say, by the old man under the moon.
I’ll keep getting better at saying these things out loud. Until I do, please know this much is always, completely true:
I’m grateful for you.
Every single day.
— always yours