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Heartbeat

The Echoes Never Leave, by Sky Burton

The Echoes Never Leave

He was diagnosed as a toxic narcissist with a long, clinical term that made him sound like a case study instead of the predator who systematically dismantled my life. The memories keep their razor-sharp edges, and sometimes are triggered by the smallest things. Today it was yellow.

How do you know when love has gone wrong?

They Called Him a Lover-Part 1

Not the polished, pretty boy who sent flowers and said the right thing at the right time. No—he was the kind who stayed when he shouldn’t have. Who forgave the silence. Who kept showing up, hoping she'd eventually meet him halfway.

What is an angel number? A message. A memory. A call to action. What we notice beyond the chatter all around us can shape what we become.

424. I Named The Site After a Number. Here’s Why.

The 424 became a small act of defiance against a world that demands constant explanation. A reminder that some of the most important choices we make don’t come from logic or plans, but from a quiet tug at the edge of awareness.

Rewritten

Rewritten

Sometimes, the year ends exactly where it needs to: not in grand finales or clean epilogues, but in the quiet return of something that once felt impossible.

How do we learn to endure?

The Last Goodbye

We talked about the future—the life we weren’t going to have. And although we clung to the fantasy, the dread lingered in the background like a loaded gun on the table. There was no saving this bright thing.

The Day I Asked Google If Gay Dragons Could Get Pregnant

The Day I Asked Google If Gay Dragons Could Get Pregnant

It started off innocently enough searching for answers to questions like, what’s too steamy? How many thrusts is too many thrusts? Is a metaphorical shower scene safe if nobody gets explicitly rinsed? Does anyone know??

Bad Influence. Is therapy always the best option?

Galaxy and Other Bad Influences

His office smelled like cigarettes and leather—surprisingly masculine, possibly intentional. He looked around 42, maybe 45. Tall, graying, with a lean build and a way-too-fitted sweater that hugged his chest and emphasized his arms. He dressed in shades of gray, like a fog bank with opinions.