Day 164: Echoes of Her

Day 164: Echoes of Her

“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” — William Faulkner

There are nights when I wonder if I am moving forward or simply walking in circles—chasing echoes that refuse to fade.

I tell myself this journey is for me. That the steps I take now are mine alone. That going back is about standing on my own two feet. But if that were true, why does every path still lead me back to her? Why does her presence still linger in the spaces between my thoughts, filling the silence with a weight I cannot put down?

I try to trust myself. To believe that I am moving toward something greater. But the doubt creeps in, wrapping itself around my ribs, whispering questions I can’t answer.

Is there a grander purpose to all of this? Or am I just a man lost in his own longing?

The mind plays cruel tricks on those who grieve. It convinces us that time will provide clarity, that healing will make sense of what was left behind. But what if clarity never comes? What if I am simply walking towards something that no longer exists, driven by a belief that refuses to break?

I still believe in us. Even when the world tells me not to. Even when logic demands that I let go.

But maybe this isn’t about her at all. Maybe this is about me—learning how to move forward, even with the weight of what I feel. Learning to trust myself, even when the road ahead is unclear. Learning that strength isn’t just about surviving, but about standing in the unknown and walking forward anyway.

The bell tolls overhead. The golden light flickers through the mist. I press forward. Not because I have answers, but because I must.

Somewhere in this loop, somewhere in these echoes, I will find myself again. And maybe, just maybe, that will be enough.

Our door is always open, and the path, though obscured, is still beneath our feet.

Day 164

One Step. One Punch. One Round. 🌹

—Your Fellow Traveler