Untitled

[im-shynox]

🌌 Saiyaara... and the Space It Left Behind

Last night, I watched a story that wasn’t mine, Yet every frame felt like a memory. Each silence, a whisper I once ignored. Each goodbye, a wound I still carry.

There’s a hollow in my chest today — Not painful, but present. Like something sacred slipped through my fingers Before I ever held it.

Maybe I miss a love I never lived, Or a version of me that believed in forever. Maybe I just touched a truth too heavy To hold for more than a moment.

Saiyaara... You didn’t just show me a film. You showed me my own unspoken longing. And now, I sit with the ache — Not to escape it, But to understand what it’s asking of me.