…and it was almost like I was holding a strange object, something I knew I once owned but couldn't quite name its purpose, that feeling of fifteen minutes stretching out without an immediate demand, and my mind just hovered, tracing the edges of what used to be called 'my time' before the map of my own desires got folded so small I forgot it was ever there, just a wrinkle in my palm, but now it feels like a corner of it is slowly, hesitantly unfurling, not a grand plan, just a faint line, and the air around me, it’s not the consuming void it once was, it’s more like a hum now, something that vibrates gently against my ribs, an almost imperceptible lightness that wasn't there before, like the weight of gravity itself feels different after you stop fighting it, as if the breath that finally came has settled into every space, making room for something else entirely.