When Pixies Go Quiet

 

I miss you, old friend. I miss what we had—who we were when nobody was watching. 

I remember our wild adventures. The side-eyes. The laughter. The inside jokes that made people blink twice, but we just laughed harder. 

Do you still dance in the rain? Do you still get that sudden urge to laugh just because the day feels light and being alive feels... enough? I still take long drives and think of you. You were a terrible co-pilot (and let’s be real, a worse driver), but behind a playlist? Unmatched. You made the road sing. Everything reminds me of you—the mountains, the skies, the water, the way animals move like they know something we’ve forgotten. It was borderline psychotic how in sync we were. Do you still walk barefoot near water to ground yourself? I stopped after you left. The water still calls to me though—like a siren to a sailor. Do you hear it too? 

We had so many plans. What happened to them? You were my travel buddy, and without you, I haven’t moved much. The world feels muted. No one could rile me up like you did—and then crack me open with laughter before the rage could take root. Nobody knows me like you. You know things I don’t say out loud—things most people would blush at or shrink from. Not you. Not me. We share a depraved mind—you disguise yours better, and I just... don’t care. 

Yin and Yang. I’m the shadow to your spark. You’re still my Pixie—no matter where you are, who surrounds you, or what face you wear for the crowd. I know the real you: radiant, mischievous, wild-hearted. Playful. Uncontainable. Magnetic. Some might call you annoying—I call you necessary. Do you still dance through store aisles, headphones in, swaying like the music wrote itself for you? I used to find awe in the way you would loose yourself in the music and not see the world around you, they didn't matter just you and your music. And when you’d hum and do that little bounce while eating something that hit just right—I swear, joy had a sound, and it was that. 

I still believe in the power of energy, of souls, divine timing, of connection that doesn’t vanish just because it’s gone quiet. I believe certain people come into our lives to stay—even if they step out of view for a while. You were never fleeting, I felt it—that this wasn’t a passing soul-tide. I knew it the moment we met. As an empath, I felt it in my gut—you weren’t passing through, you were woven in. This isn’t goodbye. It’s just a pause. A gap between chapters. So we could pour into others and help them grow, the way only healers like us can.

But… can you maybe hurry back from your break? It’s time. You know I don’t like people like that. You were my buffer between the chaos and my quiet hardness—and without you? I won’t lie. I’m not fairing well. You’re still the people’s person to my still-loaded silence. Twin souls, we used to say. That never felt like a joke. So wherever you are—dancing, laughing, hiding—I feel you. And when you’re ready, I’ll still be here. Let’s write the next chapter.

By: notesformysoulmate © 2025 Notesformysoulmate. All rights reserved