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Missing Rib in a Disposable Age

There was a time when love was believed to cost something. A rib, if you trust the old story. Bone. Breath. Proximity to the heart. Creation through absence. God taking something from Adam so that Adam would forever feel the ache of what was missing and recognize it when it returned in another body. Now we live in an age that doesn’t believe in missing parts. Only upgrades. Replacements. Next options. We swipe without thinking, moving on before anything sticks, calling it freedom, calling it “not catching feelings,” as if feeling itself were a weakness instead of proof that we’re alive. Caring too much makes you clingy. Wanting something real makes you intense. Asking for honesty makes you too much. Nonchalance has become the standard, and showing the heart is a risk we’ve been trained to avoid. Indifference is rewarded. Distance is attractive. Silence is power. The missing rib theory terrifies this generation because it demands recognition. Not chemistry. Not convenience. Recognition....

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