Chapter Text
I have lived in many rooms without ever moving. Some were filled with noise, the sound of her voice, the clatter of plates, the rhythm of footsteps that never quite reached my door. Others were quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that makes you feel small enough to disappear in it.
Each room taught me a version of myself.
The obedient one. The careful one. The daughter who nodded even when she wanted to scream.
I learned how to take up less space, how to close my own doors before anyone else could. I learned that love can sound like worry, that concern can feel like control, and that safety sometimes looks like a cage built out of care.
I didn’t hate those rooms.
They were where I learned to survive, to breathe through the cracks, to imagine what life could be like beyond the walls.
But lately, I’ve started wondering what it might mean to live in a room with open windows.
One that smells like rain and matcha and something close to freedom.
Maybe I’ve already built it. Maybe I’ve been walking toward it all along.