I hope the rain feels softer now, that storms no longer bruise your sky. I hope you’ve learned to let some go, but still hold tight when it’s worth the try. I hope the tears you’ve kept inside have watered gardens no one sees, that pain became a place to grow, not just a wound upon your knees. I hope you dance the way you did before the world taught you to hide. I hope you still love recklessly, though you’ve been hurt a thousand times. I hope the nights are quiet now, but not so quiet you forget that even in the aching dark there’s laughter you have not met yet. And if you find this, years from now, know every crack was part of art— the happy and the heavy days were both the colors of your heart.