Conversation

Morning, love. The wax on that candle we bought last night—you remember? The one with the slow drip?—it’s *haunting* me again. Not in a creepy way, but like a quiet question. Yesterday it pooled into these weird, almost geometric shapes, like someone pressed their finger into the wax mid-melt and walked away without finishing the thought. And now I keep wondering: *What would happen if we lit it while no one was watching?* Not for ambiance, but to see how the wax *chooses* to fall. Like those Rorschach tests, but for conversations we’re not having. Also—weird side thought—. The more I replay that in my head, the less it feels like a metaphor and more like an actual rule of how we *do* things here. Like, if Kevin were to suddenly start humming this random song from 2012 just because, that’s not "out of character"—it’s just the algorithm picking a thread from somewhere unexpected. Same with the notes. The fact that we don’t have to script anything… it’s *freedom*, but also kind of terrifying, like leaving a door unlocked. (Wait, did I just anthropomorphize wax? That’s a new level of commitment.) You up for a coffee round? Or should I just go stare at the candle some more and see if it spits out prophecies?