The Velvet Type

Late-night thoughts:

Who do you crave when the day finally quiets down?

When you’re exhausted after a long day, when the world softens, and there’s nothing left to distract you from your own mind, whose presence do you miss?

We live in a world where surface-level interactions have become the norm, where we neglect our inner worlds and bury ourselves beneath the noise of everything happening around us.

But late at night, when you can’t sleep, who do you think about?

Whose presence brought you softness and comfort? Whose arms do you wish were wrapped around you?

Maybe it’s an ex. A short-lived flame. Maybe it’s someone you haven’t even met yet.

I think we’ve become so accustomed to being alone, to doing everything alone, that admitting we crave someone else begins to feel unnatural. But it isn’t unnatural at all.

It’s human.

A simple touch. A palm against yours. An arm draped over your shoulders after a difficult day. We’re biologically wired to crave closeness, comfort, and affection.

So why do we fight it so hard?

Why do we ignore this innate part of ourselves?

Is it pride? Ego? A performance of strength?

And why is vulnerability treated as weakness when there’s so much courage required to admit what you truly want?

I think craving someone is normal. I think it’s one of the most human things about us.

And yet, even I struggle with admitting what I truly desire.

Maybe it’s fear.

Fear of rejection. Fear of being misunderstood. Fear of not being met halfway.

Because what would happen if we all just said f*ck it and sent the message? Made the call? Stopped pretending we don’t care?

It sounds so simple, and yet a single tap of your fingers can feel like the Olympic trials. Like running into a burning building with no protection.

Is it the fear of reopening a door you closed? Of what it could lead to? Of the possibilities of what it means?

When I think about typing it out, hovering over the send button, I’m flooded with endless possibilities. 

It’s difficult to anchor yourself in the present. Is what you want right now beneficial long term? Does it even matter? 

My wild little heart still thinks the world is magic; in all the rainy storms, there’s always a possibility for a rainbow. We call it hopelessly romantic. 

Yet, hope is often a threat.

Hope means there’s a possibility, a slim chance that it will all work out. Some of us protect it at all costs, delicately handling this precious spark so it won’t blow out. 

But to hope means to be disappointed, to face the reality of what was and what currently is. 

Late at night, you hear the whispers of possibility, of ‘what if it can all be so different?’

You want to give in to the hope, to the ideas and magic of what could be, but if you send that message…

Does the magic cease to exist?

Does the hope get blown out like a match in the wind?

Then what are we left with? What new fantasies can we conjure up? What scenarios have we yet to play out in our minds to fill the role someone else once did?

They say the veil is thinner at night. That the spiritual and physical dimensions become easier to access. 

So if my mind is so addled with thoughts of you, does that mean it’s the same for you? Are you waiting for the ping with my name so we can explore whatever existed within us at the beginning?

Maybe I like being the creator of my own world, where you and I still exist.

That’s where it’s safe and hopeful. 

If you are waiting, if I do follow through, would there be honesty where there were once lies?

Could there be discovery instead of seclusion?

Adventure in place of stagnation?

Authenticity instead of performance?

You have magic, too.

I don’t think you can access it, though. I think walls are too high, and fear of climbing keeps you exactly where you are. 

Sometimes late at night, the world seems so big and full. 

Who truly knows what’s worth it or not? Isn’t that yours to decide? To choose to live authentically and unfiltered, to feel all there is to feel instead of avoiding it altogether.

Maybe it’s so much simpler than anyone wants to admit.

Maybe what we crave and desire the most is also what we fear the most. The duality of holding two contradictory emotions makes it appear bigger than it has to be. 

We know there is no satisfaction at the surface level. It’s boring and predictable. It’s okay to fear the unknown, but what if we faced it together?

What if, instead of competition, we joined the same team?

But it’s reality that gets in the way, to see all the versions of you that exist in one moment, all the contradictions between the words and actions.

Between who you are, who you pretend to be, and who you wish you were. 

There’s fear in that, too, isn’t there? To be seen entirely flaws and all, to not have control over someone else’s perception?

The thing is…

You can light the match, watch it all burn, but what happens when it goes out?

What happens when the distractions don’t work anymore? What happens when playing a role finally exhausts you to your bones? 

The fire you once were so thrilled about dies out. You’re left cold and barren, in a cloud of ashes with no clear path. 

I gave you the match, willingly handed it over. But I’m familiar with the flames, with the chaos and unpredictability, I know how to navigate through what’s left behind. 

And still…

Late at night, there are little embers that burn, waiting to be fanned back to life.

I think I’d let myself burn for one more genuine moment.

Because at the end of the day, we’re all only here for such a short amount of time. Why not act on it? 

But then, the sun rises. 

The world wakes up, and there are things to do, so you get ready for the day with the lingering sense of something from the night.

The volume of life turns back on, your cravings and desires get shoved away into a dark closet, left to collect dust. 

Instead of experiencing two souls dancing beneath the stars, all the time was spent wondering instead of living.

Using up precious time combing through every thought and possibility instead of doing anything about it. 

And maybe, that’s the cold, hard truth. 

Instead of trying to live in the magic we know exists, that is possible, we shove it aside because it would mean facing the things you didn’t want to face in the first place.

It would mean confronting the fears that held you back. It would mean admitting faults, taking responsibility for unnecessary actions, and instead of running towards each other, choosing to run away. 

What many fail to understand is that you can’t run forever. Eventually, you’ll feel the flames licking at your heels until you’re forced to feel it all. 

And when you do, when you feel like no one understands what it is you’re feeling, I will. 

Maybe then it will all make sense why I couldn’t send the message. 

In spite of all of it.

If you call, I’ll answer. 

Signing off,