when did I change?

I’m rude for reasons that dance just out of reach, like shadows at dusk, wriggling in edges of thought. I ask myself, over and over, What happened to me? The mirror reflects a flicker, a tired visage, cracked with the weight of unspoken fears, and the edges sharpen, my tongue cuts like glass. Once, I was soft, a whisper among the loud, light in the crevices of laughter, now my words tumble like stones, each syllable,a dismissal, a jagged breath against the warmth of connection. In quiet moments, when the world slows down, I lean into the silence, suffocating beneath the echoes of my own making. People glide past, smiling, reaching, I turn away, afraid of the closeness. Where is the kindness, the gentle hand? Did I bury it in the haste of my pride, or hide it away, afraid it would betray? I look down upon myself, this armor I’ve forged from resentment, and wonder if beneath, there is a heart, still pulsing, still yearning to break free, to heal, to find the lost melodies of compassion and sing them loud again. when did I change, and how. Does time go by this fast? I never even noticed.