For so long, I believed my wings were broken. I wanted to fix them — but they were never damaged. I just didn’t remember how to use them.

They became a journal of my failures. A memory of all I didn’t know.

I kept asking: Why am I here? Who am I?

And the answer was… silence. A deep, black void that swallowed my body and soul.

But deep inside, there was always a voice: “Hey. I’m here. I know who you are. Do you hear me?”

I ignored it. I listened to others — their judgments, their noise. I believed they knew better. And slowly, I became… no one. An empty shell. A life with no meaning.

But the voice never left. “Can you hear me now?”

And one day — I did. Not with fireworks. Not with drama. Just… a quiet whisper: “Hi. It’s me. And I’m you. Want to talk?”

🌿 Let this stay with you today:

Sometimes it’s not about hearing louder — it’s about finally listening.