11/03/25 Leaving Faint Trances

The emptiness that once terrified me now feels like a kind of peace. I used to think of silence as something to fight against, something that needed to be filled with sound or company or purpose. But after a while, when you face it every day, the void becomes a companion. The monster learns your name. The darkness stops growling.

There’s a strange comfort in the things that once frightened you. You begin to see patterns in the stillness. You start to enjoy eating alone, the quiet clinking of the spoon against the bowl, the steady rhythm of your own breath. It fulfills you more than sitting at a crowded table ever could. There was a time when solitude felt like punishment. Now it feels like completion.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s possible to fall in love with your own loneliness. Maybe it’s a kind of Stockholm syndrome, where the hostage starts defending the cage. You talk to people, but it’s never more than a surface exchange. You listen, you nod, you smile, but inside there’s a quick calculation; the silent monologue that tells you it’s not worth it. And so you end it all with a polite “take care” or “you have a good one.” Every conversation fades before it even begins.

Life turns into a pattern, small repetitions stitched together by habit. The same coffee shop. The same park bench. The same time of day. It’s comforting at first, then slowly claustrophobic. You start noticing that the barista remembers your order, the old man in the corner recognizes your face. The routine that gave you safety begins to feel like exposure. Familiarity starts to look like intrusion.

So you move again. You find a new place, a new corner, a new route home. You call it a fresh start, but really it’s just another attempt to keep the distance alive. To protect the small island of solitude you’ve built for yourself.

Somewhere along the way, you stop calling yourself settled. You begin to see that you’re more of a traveler. You never truly arrive. You never truly belong. Your presence is always passing through, leaving faint traces that no one will remember. And strangely, that thought no longer hurts. It almost feels like freedom.