The Binding

At some point, things started drifting. Not all at once. Nothing broke. Nothing collapsed. Just… distance.

Places that once felt connected began to sit apart, like they had forgotten how close they used to be.

But they never fully separated. Something stayed between them.

Not force. Not restraint. Just lines.. thin, strained, impossible to ignore.

They don’t pull anything back. They just make it clear: leaving is never complete.

They stretch. They thin. They almost give.

But they don’t.

Every piece still carries something from the others. Weight. Memory. Tension.

Distance doesn’t remove it. It reveals it.

So the world remains like this—

not broken, not whole...

just held together by connections that never asked to exist and never learned how to stop.