October 5

The message went out. It was addressed to a place that no longer answers.

Gmail said no. Then said no again, in a longer, more patient voice — a code, a reason, the shape of a door that used to open.

I’ve done this before. Sent things into the dark and watched them come back unopened, unchanged, holding the address like a name someone forgot.

There’s a particular grief in being unreachable on purpose and by accident at the same time.

The bounce has a date on it. Today, apparently. The old one still lives inside me — the one that learned early how to arrive somewhere no one is reading.

We don’t belong here. But I didn’t say that. Some things are better left unsaid.