sol.ace_r

I have thought about things that disappear.
Every day, we lose something and let something slip away as we live.
Some things vanish without leaving a trace, while others remain like fine dust in the heart for a long time, only to suddenly disappear one day.
Because most of them are barely visible, we only feel their absence after they are gone.

Moisture that evaporates quickly in the morning sunlight, warmth that lingers briefly on the back of a hand, a smile that catches at the end of a sentence and softly falls away.
All of these fragments disappear, yet that does not make them meaningless.
Rather, I sometimes think that because those moments existed, the person I am today has become a little stronger.
Disappearance can, at times, be a force that pushes growth forward.

The human heart is the same.
Emotions that were once so vivid we hardly dared to touch them grow faint one day, and after a few more days, they vanish without a sound.
The process is sad, and sometimes strangely peaceful.
Things that only hurt when we kept holding on to them often, in disappearing, finally allow us to live.
Disappearance may not be loss but transformation—
a change of form that becomes a strength supporting us from another place.

What is most regretful is that we rarely notice the exact moment when disappearance arrives.
A landscape that stood beside me yesterday looks slightly different today; the voice of someone once so familiar trembles in the depths of memory and fades; even the anxiety that tormented me for so long is suddenly no longer there.
Countless things quietly disappear within a single day, yet we only realize it much later.

Even so, I cannot bring myself to resent what disappears.
If something disappears, it means there was once a moment when it stayed, and whatever stayed has passed through my time and emotions and become a part of me.
Every moment before it vanished still flows within me.
It has only lost its shape; it has not been completely erased.

Sometimes I think this:
perhaps things disappear so that we do not become too heavy.
Life is narrower than we imagine, and the heart more fragile than we think, to carry everything at once.
So between what leaves and what remains, we learn balance, and in that space, we slowly grow.

Things that disappear are frightening, yet at the same time gentle.
They release us, lighten us, and on certain days, move us forward.

And so today, I accept them.
The things that disappear.
And all the warmth that lingered for a moment before it did.