Christopher

He stood under the hot shower, feeling the water relax his tense muscles. Drops of water trickled down his back, leaving glistening marks on his skin. In that moment, with the world outside the bathroom door distant and alien, he was alone with himself. And with the thoughts that had been haunting him for the past few days.

Her face appeared in his mind as unexpectedly as always. She was there even when he tried to forget. He knew her gaze was somewhere else now, not here, where they first met—in the café with its half-fogged windows and the scent of freshly brewed coffee, which they both loved. He didn't know then that it would be her laughter that would be like light in a dark room, and her words the wind he always sought.

He closed his eyes, trying to clear the images from his mind. He didn't know what had happened when their worlds had diverged so abruptly. He didn't know why her shadow had vanished from his life, leaving only emptiness and questions in its wake. The water continued to pour, and his soul seemed to grow heavier, as if it were drowning him, dragging him down.

And now, again, just like that first time: he felt her touch, as if she were standing next to him, ready to take his hand, as she had before. But he couldn't find her. He couldn't catch her. She was just a memory, nothing more.

Then he opened his eyes and saw himself in the mirror. His reflection was different—with the same eyes searching for answers to questions that remained unanswered. He knew he had to return. Return to her. Return to those feelings that had never faded.

Perhaps all he needed was to not be afraid to take a step forward, despite all the doubts.