The world shatters into pieces, and I feel as though I am falling through space, through time, through myself. The room, the shelves, the older version of me — everything dissolves into nothingness, leaving behind a vast, unending emptiness. I am suspended in this infinite void, and yet, I feel no fear. Just… a strange kind of calm.
I am alone now.
But I know I am not truly alone. The others — the versions of myself — are here with me, in the spaces between. I can feel their presence, just as I have felt their absence in every choice I made, every moment I allowed myself to be lost. They are with me because I am them, and they are me.
The weight of the revelation is crushing, but at the same time, it is liberating. I have been running from myself for so long, from the choices I've made, from the person I am, from the broken pieces I've left behind. But now… now I have no choice but to face them. To face myself.
The voice of the older version echoes in the void, gentle yet firm. "You can't keep running. The truth is not just about your choices, it's about who you are. All of you. Every version, every piece of yourself. You created the fractures, but you can also heal them."
I take a deep breath, the emptiness around me pressing in, yet the air feels full. Full of possibility. Full of… understanding.
I close my eyes and focus on the versions of myself. Each one is a part of me — the confident one, the fearful one, the broken one, the hopeful one. All of them, all of us, living in these fragmented versions of reality. We are the fractures. We are the loop. We are the key to healing it.
I step forward, though I am still floating in the void, unsure of where I am going. But I know I need to take the next step. I must face the truth of who I am. I must accept every version of myself, even the parts I've tried to forget, even the parts that hurt.
"I am ready," I say, though my voice feels distant, as if the words are coming from somewhere beyond me.
The older version appears again, standing before me, but this time, there is no judgment in his eyes. Only understanding. "It's not easy. Acceptance never is. But it is the only way forward. The fractures you've created are part of you, and you are part of them. Once you accept all of yourself, you can begin to heal."
I nod slowly. I understand now. The healing isn't about fixing the world around me, it's about healing myself. Only then can I hope to repair the fractures in the world.
As I accept this, the void begins to shift. The darkness lightens, and a new landscape begins to emerge. The edges of reality reassemble, like puzzle pieces coming together, but this time, there is no rush. There is no sense of urgency. Just a calm, steady reconstruction.
And then, I see them. The other versions of me — all of them, standing around me. Their faces are clear now, not blurred or distorted by fear or guilt. Each one of us stands in our own truth.
And together, we begin to walk forward.