Reading this felt like sitting next to you in that cold, endless night you described.

There’s such a raw, quiet ache in the way you talk about a "home" that feels light-years away. I was really moved by the contrast between your need for warmth and the icy silence coming from the other side. It’s haunting how you captured that lingering hope the kind where, even after being pushed away or left behind, you’re still reaching out, wondering if there’s still a place for you.