my light

I think I’ve lost my spark, or maybe I’m just going through some kind of growth that I don’t fully understand yet. I don’t talk as much anymore. I find myself keeping to myself, not out of anger or bitterness, but because I’ve quietly mastered the art of distance. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s that I no longer have the energy to show up in the ways I once did. The version of me that used to be loud, available, and endlessly giving has slowly faded into someone softer, quieter, and more selective. Somewhere along the way, I slipped into this “I don’t care” phase not because people stopped mattering, but because I realized I had been pouring so much of myself into others that there was nothing left for me. I started ghosting people without even meaning to, not out of cruelty, but because silence began to feel safer than explanations I didn’t know how to put into words. I became strangely comfortable in my own absence, in the stillness of not being everywhere for everyone. Maybe this is healing. Maybe this is exhaustion. Maybe it’s both. All I know is that I’m learning to be okay with not being the person I once was. I’m learning that growth isn’t always pretty or loud.