Bets, Beds & Treads ۶ৎ

𝒙𝒙𝒙𝒊𝒊.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ xxxɪɪ
| ᴏ ᴜ ᴛ ᴄ ᴀ s ᴛ |
𝐑 𝐄 𝐈 𝐆 𝐍

𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗟𝗞𝗦. The long kind, especially. The world slows down when I walk. It's the only time everything feels like it makes some kind of sense. If it wasn't for all the clocks in my life ticking louder than they should, I'd walk forever.

Anyway, I just left Reina's clothes hanging on her gate. Her place happened to be on the way to where I was headed-but I won't lie and pretend that's the only reason why I went.

I let out a quiet sigh, absentmindedly nudging a pebble down the path with my shoe.

Truth is, I wanted to check on her. Just needed to make sure she was okay...

She seemed fine, more than fine, really. After last night, I wasn't sure what I'd be walking into. Thought she might be different. A little shaken, maybe. But then again, she was drunk. I'm sure she doesn't even remember half of what she said.

I'd stood by her gate longer than I had any right to, leaning against the post, half-hidden behind the fences like some kind of creep. Watching her and her friend mess around. Laugh. That easy kind of closeness I've never really known. They're always together. As far as I can tell, they always have been.

And I don't know what it was that hit me, but it did. It wasn't jealousy. Wasn't exactly longing either. More like... a dull ache that pressed right behind the rib. That weird in-between where you're glad she's happy... and also kind of reminded that you don't fit in that frame. It was as if... standing outside a warm house in the middle of winter, watching people laugh inside through a window you're not invited to knock on. You're happy they're happy. You are. But...

I didn't want to break their moment so, I left without a word.

The feeling lingered as I kept walking. My feet knew where they were going except I didn't want to get there. I've always got places to be, but I never seem to want to get to any of them. So I do what I do best-drag my feet and find distractions to make the road stretch out just a little longer.

This street helps. It's not loud. Not dead either. Just... enough.

The sound of birds chirping fills my ears and I slowed my steps, tilting my head up. On the curve of a leaning tree branch, were two little birds. Heads tucked against one another like they were lovers. It was the kind of scene people paint and hang on their walls. The kind you don't interrupt.

So I didn't. I just let it be.

People have the wrong perception that not wanting to socialize means that you always want to be holed up in your room with the curtains drawn. But that's not it.

There's a difference between solitude and self-sabotage.

Lying in bed all day scrolling through fake smiles and curated lives online isn't introversion. That's laziness. Maybe, fear. People call it a personality trait so they don't have to call it what it really is. Doesn't make it any less empty.

There's nothing wrong with stillness. I like stillness. I like quiet. I like being alone, just not hidden. Because if you stay hidden too long, you forget how to come back. You start convincing yourself that none of it matters. That the world was never worth showing up for in the first place. And you end up calling yourself insignificant.

But the universe has already proved you your insignificance. Time dilation suggests that when you gaze at the sky, you're seeing your past  — light that departed centuries ago. What's ahead has already occurred. If that's not enough to make you question existence, consider the fact that people die every day, and most of them leave no trace behind.