There's beauty in everything. Beauty in the softest, most ridiculous things. Like how someone remembers your coffee order without asking. Or when they send you a meme at 2 a.m. just because they know you're awake and spiraling. Beauty in the kind of rain that ruins your day but gives you an excuse to stay in and talk about nothing with people who feel like home.
There's beauty in overworked team dinners too—when everyone's barely upright, their souls leaking out through their eyeballs, but still, someone manages to lift a toast with whisky in one hand and departmental gossip in the other. Somehow, even burnout glimmers if you squint.
And there's beauty in time. Well, the idea of it, anyway. How it sprints like a squirrel when you're laughing too hard with your favorite people. Or when you're celebrating something you've bled for.
But when you're sad? Alone? Heartbroken in the "I might spontaneously combust if someone asks me how I am" kind of way?
