. “The Bench Where I Met Myself”
The Walk That Didn’t End… But Changed Direction Some evenings don’t begin with intention. They begin with a need. These days, I find myself walking—not because I planned to, not because someone asked me to, but because staying still feels heavier than moving. The road has become a place where I carry my thoughts, step by step, without knowing where they are supposed to go. It’s strange… I used to walk with people, laugh without thinking, and enjoy the noise of company. But now, I walk alone—not because I don’t want people around me, but because there are too many things inside me that I don’t know how to share.And silence, somehow, feels safer.There’s something about walking alone in the evening. The sky is neither bright nor dark. It feels like a pause between two worlds—just like me. Not fully okay, but not completely broken either. Just… somewhere in between. I keep asking myself where this path is leading me. Not the road under my feet, but the one my life is taking. And the ...
