The Ease of It

Sometimes, talking to you felt strangely therapeutic.

Not because you always had the right answers, but because somewhere between one thought and the next, the noise in my head softened.

There were conversations that seemed to arrive before I even knew what I was trying to say. As if I had been quietly hypnotized into honesty—words flowing without resistance, without rehearsal, without the need to make sense.

I don't remember every topic we wandered into. I remember the feeling instead.

The ease. The curiosity. The silence that never felt empty.

Some conversations leave with the day. Ours lingered a little longer, like a melody that stays long after the music has stopped.

And perhaps that's what I loved most.

Not what we talked about, but how effortlessly it all found its way into words.