I closed my shop.
Then I ended a relationship.
And for three years, I told everyone I was fine.
Everyone — including myself.
The funny thing is, my apartment never believed me.
It held everything I wasn't ready to say. The boxes I didn't unpack. The pieces I didn't move. The silence I confused with stability.
I'm not writing today to explain any of that. There´s no point...
I'm writing because something is changing. And this time, I'm not pretending it isn't.
More next week.
Nat from Casa Lanna Ha