In the quiet chambers of my chest, there lies a human-shaped hole, a delicate void etched into the very fabric of my being. It is not a wound, but rather a tender alcove, a space where memories gather like fallen leaves seeking refuge.

Everyone I’ve met—strangers, lovers, fleeting companions—has left their mark upon me. They’ve woven their stories into the tapestries of my soul, each thread a whisper, a laughter, a tear. And yet, in their wake, they’ve also claimed a fragment of my heart. A piece willingly surrendered, as if love were a currency traded in ephemeral exchanges.

I am a wanderer, a seeker of hidden constellations. When I set forth, it is not to escape, but to discover. Yet, paradoxically, I am lost even as I seek. The compass of my longing spins wildly, pointing to uncharted territories. Perhaps, in this cosmic dance of loss and revelation, I am meant to find myself anew.

So, I tread the labyrinth of existence, tracing the contours of memory, hoping that one day, at the crossroads of fate, I’ll stumble upon the missing shard. Perhaps it lies in the laughter of a child, the scent of rain-soaked earth, or the touch of a kindred spirit. Perhaps it is hidden within the echo of forgotten dreams, waiting for me to reclaim it.

And when that moment arrives—when the seeker becomes the found—I’ll mend the human-shaped hole with stardust and whispers. For love is both the wound and the balm, and in its alchemy, we become whole once more.

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May your heart find solace in the spaces where love resides. ❤️

Copyright © Beatriz Esmer

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