He stood still for a long time.
The hush of this place was almost too beautiful to breathe in.
Where sky kissed water and the world no longer drew lines between what was real and what was not.
It was quiet, not the silence of absence, but the kind that feels full, like a lullaby humming just beneath the surface of the wind.
He looked around slowly, like someone afraid of waking from a dream.
Everything around him shimmered like stardust trapped in daylight.
His voice caught somewhere in his chest.
"What… is this place…"
No one answered. Only the soft exhale of the breeze, brushing past his hair, grazing his skin like an old memory.
His gaze drifted downward.
And there, within the endless glass of the still water beneath his feet,
He saw, himself.
A reflection. Fragile. Quiet.
But then.
A ripple.
Soft at first. Then another.
The water trembled gently, as if the world had taken a breath.
And his face, the only image of himself he had, began to distort.
Waves twisted it, fragmented it, pulled it apart.
He watched it break and scatter in silence.
We see ourselves only in stillness.
But life does not hold still.
He could not recognize the boy in the water anymore.
Just a broken shape, shifting endlessly with the current.
A living regret, that's what the sea was.
A memory that never settles.
A wound that breathes.
And then, again.
Pain.
Sharp and sudden, like a blade pressed into thought.
He stumbled, palms clutching his skull.
Memories surged forward without mercy.
Names.
Voices.
A thousand moments screaming to be remembered.
Hands he couldn't hold.
Faces he couldn't save.
Choices.
Mistakes.
So many of them.
The weight of it brought him to his knees.
It clawed through his ribs and into his heart, a flood with no edge.
And then, finally.
Silence again.
He remained hunched over, shaking, a single tear escaping down his cheek and disappearing into the rippling mirror below.
His breath slowed.
The ache began to dull.
The wind returned, brushing his skin with a kind hand.
It carried no judgment. Only presence.
He sat there, breathing, not thinking.
Then, quietly, he stood.
His legs were unsure, but they held.
His fingers loosened from his temples.
And the breeze whispered once more, soft, like someone saying welcome home.
He tilted his head to the sky.
Eyes closed.
And for the first time…
He didn't feel lost.
Just… here.