I'm not gone.
I’m just at the second location.

You know the one—
    the part of the night
    where the music’s live,
    the seats are a little more comfortable…

    conversations deepen with no room to pretend.

That’s Fort Worth now.

Location Two.

The quieter follow-up to a scene
    that already nailed the chemistry.

No neon signs.
No late-night menu.
No Coal pacing the floorboards. (but I swear I heard his tags jingling last night)

Just the same thread,
    stretched across a zip code or three—

    still taut.
    still warm.

I’m back here,
    with Ava and the backroads,
    with Oscar’s live set humming…

    you still the only one I want to text about it.

And you?
    Still at the first location.
    Still cuddling up with Coal,
    Still sipping on that drink,

    Still lighting up the room with nothing but your smile.

But you know how this goes.

The second location isn’t where things end—
    it’s where they settle in.

Where the moments linger longer,
      the laughs are still real…

      the story doesn’t have to shout.

We’re not “apart”

We’re just—
    between scenes.

A good intermission.

The next one's coming.

But for now?

I’m here.
    At the second location.

Still under the same stars,
    still in the same universe. (the one that likes to laugh at us)

Same pull.
Same gravity.
Still yours.
Still us.