When I went to the stars, when my earthly journey was over, when I was no more, and turned into just a handful of dirt, don't you dare grieve for me! The death of everything does not mean the end... Despite scepticism and doubts, life continues even then...! I will be bottomless in the night sky. I will become a shooting star. Above all of you, my beloved mortals, in the form of star dust, I will rain... I will caress you with a warm ray of sunshine. I will be a wonderful, summer sea breeze... You will recognize me by my warmth, by the love that will rain...
# When I Left <p>When I left, the door didn't creak— it swung open like a sigh held too long, like breath finally breaking free. The hallway stretched behind me, swallowing light in its throat. I didn't look back. Not once. My shadow stayed behind, pressed against the wall like a lover's hand on cool skin. Outside, the streets were alive with the small indifference of rain, puddles reflecting nothing I knew. The city didn't notice. The trees didn't bow. A sparrow crossed my path without ceremony. I walked until my feet forgot the shape of those rooms, until the air tasted different— sharp, uncertain, mine. They say there's no such thing as leaving, that we carry our ghosts forward, that we're always returning to some threshold. But I tell you this: the weight lifted like morning fog. The sky opened. It was enough. And if sometimes, in that hour between sleep and waking, I hear the sound of that door closing— it's only the world settling into place, only time doing what it does best: turning endings into distance.</p>
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