Description

I didn't know I was leaving my old life.
Not at first.
It felt like any other morning—too loud outside, too crowded inside—until something small slipped through the cracks of my attention.
A pause.
A breath I didn't remember taking.
A moment that didn't ask to be broadcast.

It wasn't an event.
It wasn't a revelation.
Just a shift so gentle it should've gone unnoticed:
the world exhaled, and for the first time I heard it.

There, between one heartbeat and the next, something quiet touched my shoulder.
Not a voice.
Not a warning.
Just presence—soft as early light, sharp as recognition.

I stood perfectly still.
And in that stillness, something inside me finally moved.

Maybe that's how all true beginnings arrive.
Not as thunder.
As a subtle permission:
you don't have to keep pretending you can't hear yourself.

I didn't know it yet, but that was the moment everything started to unfurl—
the moment the noise cracked,
the moment the real world slipped through,
the moment I realized silence wasn't emptiness.

It was direction.

And it had been waiting for me all along.