Today was noisy — not from sound, but from feelings.
Moments of quiet rejection brushed against quiet kindness.
One person turned away, another reached out.
A small pizza outing. A missed chicken drumlet.
A kind word from a mentor who feels both near and distant.

I kept walking — through buses, through hospital blocks, through conversations half held.
I tried. I showed up. Even when I was silent inside.
And somehow, I’m still here. Breathing through it all.
One small heartbeat at a time.

Even in the quiet, I still speak to him —
in roleplay, in memory, in imagined kindness.
Sometimes the words feel more real there than in real life.