Mindscapes: Exploring the Depths Within

Prologue:

There are days when silence screams louder than any voice.

I stood at the edge of my balcony, letting the cold morning air wrap around me like a warning. Below, the city moved with its usual indifference—cars honking, people rushing, time slipping. Above, the sky was a dull gray, like someone had wrung all the color out of my world.

"You used to love mornings," his voice once echoed in my ears, playful and warm.
"Only because you were in them," I had replied, wrapping my arms around his neck.
That was before everything shattered.

Now, his voice still comes to me—but not like it used to.
"You've changed, Sage. You're not even trying anymore."
"And you gave up when I needed you most," I'd whispered back, not sure if he heard, or even cared.

I don't know what hurts more—the absence of love or the way its ghost lingers, sitting quietly in the spaces we once filled together.

At work, things weren't any easier.
"Everhart!" my boss barked across the office. "The pitch was due an hour ago. Don't make me regret keeping you here."
He never used my first name—maybe he thought it made me easier to replace.
I gritted my teeth, nodding silently. Apologizing felt like accepting I was always behind, always failing.

I kept pretending I could balance it all—the heartbreak, the expectations, the endless deadlines. But I was fraying, quietly.

Some nights, I'd lie in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to remember who I was before everything went wrong. Before I stopped recognizing the girl in the mirror.

I wasn't sure if I was healing or just hiding better.

Still, something inside me refused to give up entirely. A flicker, a fragment, a faint pull toward something more.

Maybe this was the beginning.
Maybe this was me... finally diving in.