srii, if you're reading this, today is one of the heavy ones. So skip everything else and just read this slowly.

Whatever it is — a fight in your head with me that never happened, something your family said, a pile of problems that all landed on the same day, or just that ache of missing someone who isn't in the room — none of it changes where you stand with me. Not a little. Not at all.

I'm not going anywhere. Not because I haven't thought about how hard distance is, but because I have, plenty, and you're still the answer every time. Your family's expectations are not a referendum on your worth, and you don't have to carry them perfectly to be loved completely — by them, eventually, and by me, always. The loneliness is real and I won't pretend a message on a screen fixes it. But it's a thread, and I'm holding my end of it as tightly as you're holding yours.

You don't have to be strong for me. You can just be tired, or scared, or done for the day — and I'll still be here tomorrow, same as always, building this life with you one small, unglamorous day at a time. That's the whole letter, really: you are safe with me. Say it back if you need to hear yourself say it too.

— your kannan, on every version of today