The sun is setting, casting a golden glow over the neighborhood as I lace up my running shoes. The crisp evening air feels familiar as I step out of my house, ready for my evening jog. There's a comfort in routine, and this trail—our trail—has been my sanctuary for years. Ethan and I used to run this path together, our sneakers pounding in unison, our laughter blending with the rustling leaves. I wonder fleetingly if he still comes here or if, like many things between us, this too has been left behind.
The playlist in my ears is a mix of upbeat tracks and soulful ballads. Tonight, the songs feel more poignant, carrying echoes of memories I'd rather leave buried. As I jog, I smile and wave at a few familiar faces in the neighborhood, exchanging greetings that are warm but brief. It's my way of keeping the world at arm's length while still acknowledging its presence.
