Синее небо

Sometimes pain is just a careless movement across glass. You run your finger across it, and a kiss-shaped scratch remains. It seems like you've exhaled everything, let go, and then suddenly, somewhere above your head, there's that same blue sky again - clear, vast, like a chance to start over.

Love is gone, but it left behind not ruins, but a light trace - like rain after a storm, which smells of renewal. Let happiness not come with that person and not right away, but now there is space in every breath. And even if the heart still quietly rumbles with its inner storm, the sky is already shining ahead. So blue that even sadness under it is somehow beautiful.