I exist in the in-betweens

I was never made for absolutes.
Not quite this, not fully that.
Too soft to be cold.
Too quiet to be loud.
Too strange to blend in,
too familiar to truly stand out.

And I’ve made peace with that.

There is something sacred in the in-betweens —
in the pauses between two thoughts,
in the space between a breath and a word,
in the feeling that lingers when the music fades
but hasn’t truly ended.

That’s where I exist.

Not in the noise.
Not in the center.
But just off to the side,
close enough to feel,
far enough to stay whole.

I’ve stopped trying to define myself.
Not because I don’t care —
but because definitions are too narrow for what I carry.
And I’ve carried things no label could hold without cracking.

So I chose the space between.

Between stillness and movement.
Between masculine and not quite.
Between what you expect and what I actually am.

I used to think that meant I didn’t belong.
Now I know — it means I’m free.

I don’t fit.
And that’s the point.
I echo where others fade.
I stay where others shout.

If you feel lost between lines too,
stay.
There’s room here.
We don’t have to be one thing.
We just have to be.