I knelt by the edge of the pond, his hands resting on the damp grass as I looked into the still, glassy water. The forest around me was quiet, almost reverent, with only the soft rustling of leaves and a distant bird call breaking the silence. It felt as though the whole world had come to a standstill, as if it was just for me.
In the pond’s reflection, J saw a face that seemed both familiar and foreign. There were lines now around my eyes, faint but undeniable, and a shadow of weariness around my mouth that hadn’t been there a few years ago. It was a face shaped by days spent chasing meaningless goals that now felt hollow, and nights wondering if I've spent my time wisely.
I remembered the boy I used to be, the one who dreamed of becoming a musician, traveling the world, and making a difference. Somewhere along the way, that boy’s dreams had been exchanged for a safer path—a steady job, a small apartment, a routine. The dreams hadn’t faded completely; they’d simply been shelved, waiting for “the right time,” a time that had never come. But when will it come?
As I stared into my own eyes, I wondered how much of myself I had really left behind, buried under obligations and unfulfilled plans. I thought of the love I hadlost, the chances I'd turned down, the nights I'd spent saying, “Maybe tomorrow.” How many tomorrows were left?
The water in the pond trembled as a breeze drifted over it, rippling my reflection. For a moment, my face blurred and blended with the surrounding trees, as if nature itself were whispering that my life, like this reflection, was not fixed but fluid, still capable of change.
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of years begin to lift. I stood, feeling lighter, the echo of the pond’s reflection lingering in my mind.
