Wenn Love Becomes Impossible

When love becomes impossible, it does not vanish, it lingers in the hollow spaces, between words left unsaid, in the pause after a name that no longer feels like home. It sits quietly in the corners of memory, fading, yet refusing to be erased, a shadow casting light that no longer warms. It is not anger, not even grief, but an ache without language, a presence felt most in its absence, like air when the wind has gone still. You carry it, not as a flame, but as ash-- weightless, yet heavy, invisible, yet there. And somehow, even in its impossibility, it shapes you, teaching you what it means to hold on, and what it means to let go.