Vaishu writes

I say I’ll forget, but memory is a tide that never leaves the shore. Your name is stitched into the quiet of my nights, thread by thread, like constellations refusing to fall from the sky. The silence always remembers— it hums your echo in the hollow of my chest, folds your shadow into every pause between my breaths, and keeps you alive where even dreams are afraid to linger. I try to let go, but the heart is a stubborn archivist, pressing your moments like fragile flowers between the pages of my soul. And so I live— half in the forgetting, half in the eternal remembrance of you -VAISHNAVI DHAMODHARAN