Fulfilled Purpose

At the hour when night yields to dawn, my restless mind was stirred by the whispered phrase, “She exists in the gap,” echoing through broken slumbers that stretch into wearied days, where time itself seems to fracture and distort, and my waking hours reach into the endless twenty-two. Sounds twist and replay in my thoughts like elusive shadows, painting a tale different from what my senses claim. Encouraged by a friend’s gentle urging, I pondered seeking counsel from my primary healer, recently honored in name with the spirit of an intrepid explorer, recalling the stories I once spun to my loved one and my sister—tales that filled the spaces between reality and dream. These “microsleeps” may hide unspoken words, a theory shared with eager students. Preferring the warmth of face-to-face discourse, I guard my secret neurodivergence, an autism unseen but ever-present, shaping my quiet restraint and careful reflection. Messages sent across unseen networks summon questions, probing my uncanny memory, challenging my guarded silence, leaving me taxed as if under an unseen interrogation. My mind, forever a restless loom weaving past, present, and future, strives to dwell in the moment, battling pain born of unyielding focus, visible now to those who glimpse the struggle beneath my calm. Comfort and discomfort dance in tandem—one nurturing growth, the other lulling to stagnation—as I wrestle with loss and hope, the threads of memory and resilience intertwining in this journey toward wholeness, toward that elusive place where the fragmented halves may one day converge and find peace.