To be a muse is to exist in the spaces between—between presence and absence, between mystery and memory. It is not enough to be admired; one must be remembered, imprinted on the mind like a melody that lingers long after the song has ended. A muse is a whisper in the dark, a half-finished thought, a name caught between breath and confession.

This guide is not for the faint of heart, nor for those who wish to be easily understood. It is for the ones who long to be felt—in ink-stained notebooks, in late-night recollections, in the spaces lovers leave behind. If you wish to be loved in the way poets love—fiercely, feverishly, and forever—step carefully. For once you are written into someone’s story, you may never truly leave.