Ali, Ink & Ether

Some days, healing looks like silence. And that is enough.”

Today, my energy fluctuated. I woke up drained, but I collected myself.

I feel anxious and numb, without reason. But I accepted help. I said no. I took a long nap.

A colleague triggered me more than once. I chose to not respond, silence was my answer.

I didn’t feel like myself today. And that’s okay.

But I want to thank myself for something brave — I reached out to an old friend. No guilt. Just the will to mend a bridge.

I’m learning that growth is quiet. Healing is slow. And both are still progress.

Today, I woke up with kind thoughts. Nothing tried to pull me down, and emotionally, I was at peace. Though my sleep was restless and energy faded through the day, my spirit flowed quietly.

And for once, I accepted a gift without fighting it.

Today I chose peace over pressure. I woke up unwell and for once, I listened to my body. I stepped back from the weight I usually carry for others. And the world didn’t collapse, it waited.

I finished two games, drank in the silence, and let go of a “necessity” that wasn’t mine. There was guilt. But also, there was this…

A still surface of water beneath a starry night sky My kind of peace. Unrushed. Unbothered. Undeniably mine.

I wore my care like armor

forged in the fires of other people’s hurt

a quiet knight for battles that were never mine.

They called it love.

I called it purpose.

But I forgot the sound of my own breath

beneath all the rescue.

I walked into storms

to shield others from the rain

never noticing

my own skin, soaked and shivering.

There were days

I mistook guilt for guidance

and silence for strength.

I told myself

if I could just hold one more heart together,

maybe mine would follow.

But now

I am learning to unclench my fists

to put the sword down

to speak to myself with the softness

I reserved only for the broken.

I am not their salvation.

I am not their undoing.

I am not the pain I could not absorb

or the silence I broke to make others whole.

I am worthy

even when I choose myself.

But I'm learning now:

I can put it down.

I am worthy of gentleness, even from myself.

This chapter is mine.

and the weight of every page I never wrote.

Still, the path opened.

Still, the light waited.

I am not lost. I am unfolding.

I've lost touch with my humanity, or what I think it is that defines us as humans.

I have passions but I'm not passionate.

I go to my friend's and family's wedding but I'm not happy nor sad. I put on a smile, a good one, but inside, I don't feel a thing.

I had a good couple of relationships and they were perfect in their own way but I couldn't bring myself to drag them through my inability to receive love albeit providing all of it. I ended both amicably.

I am stuck in a limbo. A stalemate of sorts.

I know what I must do and go through with them. The journey's the fun part and reaching the end line doesn't budge me nor make me feel a thing.

I am a soldier without a border, held by a set of codes and morals that I won't break no matter the consequences.

I'm a leader, a beacon that guides the lost through, to the end of the tunnel and into the light. I give them what I cannot have.

I've been stabbed by you but I'll still go out on a limb to save you, even if I don't care about you.

I'm greedy but I'll willingly sacrifice every single time to give.