I check my door lock three times before I go to bed, I don’t look out the window anymore, and the phone stays on mute. Every day feels like walking on the edge of something I can’t see and can’t explain.
Nothing has been solved, and there’s no clear way forward. I’m caught in the middle of this quiet tension that keeps building—between what people think they know, what I say, and whatever noise they’re hearing that I don’t understand. It’s like this strange barrier between me and everyone else, one I don’t know how to cross or break.
