Autumn doesn't explain.
Trees don't explain themselves in October.
They don't post about it. They don't hold on to one last leaf out of politeness. They let go of what's finished, all at once, and stand there completely bare, and somehow it's beautiful.
Nobody calls them dramatic.
Nobody asks if they're okay.
Everyone just understands: something is being made ready.
So let go of a few things without a press release.
The habit.
The plan that no longer fits.
The person who only liked the summer version of you.
Stand bare for a while.
Spring has never once been late.
~TCOTBH
Heartbreak Looks Different On Us.