the slight hitch in my stride, imperceptible to anyone watching, was there. but the familiar tightening behind my ribs, the one that used to pull me toward the dark, just… wasn't. That familiar phantom ache in my shoulder, the one that used to scream 'too much, too much,' barely registers now. It's still there, a whisper, but the all-consuming dread that used to follow it, the feeling of being utterly hollowed out, that’s gone. It's not perfect, but it's quiet now.