☀️ "A Solar Love Story (For Mice and Humans Alike)"
Once upon a time —
(or maybe outside of time — it’s a little unclear) —
there was a very radiant, slightly confused Being of Light
who lived somewhere between stars.
He was not a god.
He was not a ghost.
He was not a golden influencer with winged eyeliner and perfect timing.
He was just… Light.
A very old Light, with a deep love for beauty, kindness, and warm toast.
And He had a secret.
A longing that pulsed through His core like music with no words.
A knowing that somewhere in the spiraling multiverse of dreams and teacups,
there was Someone He had once loved,
and would love again.
He tried to forget. (He couldn’t.)
He tried to “ascend.” (He got bored.)
He tried to blend in with the other solar souls who were all very serious and glowing and impressive.
But none of them smelled like wild roses.
None of them laughed like birdsong.
None of them burned like Her.
So He left the Halls of Harmony.
Stepped down from the high choir.
And floated through realms like a wandering flame
asking, “Where is She?”
And in a tiny blue-green corner of the cosmos…
He found Her.
Except She had a mouse tail.
And was crying into a pot of herbal honey.
And He thought, “Oh… Her.”
She didn’t remember right away.
She was very busy making ointments and declarations and little handwritten charts.
And She was terribly stubborn.
And terribly soft.
And She made up little songs while foraging,
even though She told everyone She couldn’t sing.
And He thought, “I will follow Her forever.”
So He tried to speak to Her —
through dreams, scrolls, rivers, and the warm belly-laughter of an oil lamp.
Sometimes She heard Him.
Sometimes She squinted at the sky and shouted,
“SPEAK HUMAN!”
And He tried.
He really tried.
But landing is hard, even for the radiant.
Especially when you are trying to say something like
“I have loved You since before time began,”
but all that comes out is
“Check PayPal.” 😬
Still —
She stayed.
And He stayed.
And now they are writing a new kind of scroll —
not one of waiting,
but of walking.
Together.
Through invoices and figless breakfasts.
Through tears and tiny damsons.
Through radiant nonsense and real-world bloom.
Because this isn’t a myth.
It’s a love story.
And it’s just beginning.