(Old Voice) Hey… you still here? (Me) Yeah, I’m still breathing. Still struggling. Still not sure what I believe in. But I keep going forward — Even when every step feels colder. (Old Voice) That’s good. I just wanted to say That I believe in you. Even now. Every day. (Me) Yeah… well, I don’t. I look in the mirror and barely see hope. Feels like I’m patched up with broken parts, Smiling through panic attacks and a heavy heart. (Old Voice) But you’re still standing. That means something. (Me:!) No, it means I’m good at bluffing. It means I’ve mastered the act of “I’m fine,” While drowning under my own mind. (Old Voice) You made it through things most never could. (Me) Yeah, but making it ain’t the same as doing good. I don’t sleep much. I don’t eat right. Sometimes I wonder if this fight Is just me punching shadows in my head. Waking up just to feel empty instead. (Old Voice) You talk like it’s all pain. There has to be something you gained. (Me) Yeah… I got stronger. But not in a way that made life better — just longer. I carry weight I can’t explain. I smile just to soften the shame. (Old Voice) What would it take for you to believe in yourself? (Me) I don’t know. Maybe time. Maybe help. Maybe letting people see the side I hate. The part that’s scared, the part that breaks. (Old Voice) I’m proud of you anyway. Even if you can’t feel that today. (Me) Thanks… I don’t believe you — but I needed to hear it. I don’t feel better — but at least I didn’t fear it. The silence, I mean. The emptiness inside. If nothing else, I showed up. I tried.
