Somewhere along the way, I stopped needing constant conversations. I started valuing quiet moments shared with the right people.
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I look at my life and realize I can count my real friends on one hand. Sometimes it feels peaceful, sometimes unsettling.
I used to have many people around me. Now there are fewer, and I keep wondering—did I change, or is this just part of growing older?
I want peace, not control—and I’m trying to protect myself.
I don’t have the energy I used to, and every conflict feels expensive.
I’m present, but I don’t feel connected to anyone anymore.
I wasn’t like this before. I’ve changed, and I don’t fully understand why.
I’m not the same person I was back then. I worry that my old friends wouldn’t recognize who I am now.
Sometimes I feel guilty for losing touch. I wonder if that guilt is why I stay silent instead of reaching out.
My days are full, but I still miss old friends. I keep asking myself if being busy is really the reason I never reach out.
and then