When the plane touched down, I felt an emptiness in my stomach. It wasn't fear; it was a mixture of anticipation, nerves, and that strange sensation of having reached the end of a path I once thought would never end. I carried the letter from the publisher in my backpack, crumpled from having read it over and over during the flight. The book had been published and was now on shelves, but this presentation was different. It marked the closing of one chapter of my life and the opening of another.
The conference hall was full. Sofía had warned me there would be a good turnout, but I hadn't prepared for the impact of seeing so many rows of unfamiliar faces. People held copies of Echoes in the Void, some with sticky notes marking pages, others with corners folded. I looked at Sofía, who gave me a reassuring smile from the corner of the room.
As I stepped onto the stage, the emotions hit me all at once. This was the moment I had imagined over and over while writing, but nothing could compare to the reality. I took a sip of water and approached the microphone.
"Good evening." My voice echoed through the room. The lights were bright enough that I could only make out silhouettes in front of me. "First of all, I want to thank you for being here. Echoes in the Void is not just a book for me. It's a confession, a process, and above all, a dialogue between who I was and who I've learned to become."
A hand went up in the audience, breaking the moment.
"Why did you decide to share something so personal?" asked a woman with a clear, firm voice.
I took a deep breath before answering.
"Because keeping it all to myself felt like holding a bomb. The only way to defuse it was to let other people see it, feel its weight, and maybe find something in it that could help them with their own."
My answer seemed to satisfy her, and the questions that followed flowed naturally. Some were about the writing process; others delved into the relationship between the book and my personal life. Talking about Astrid wasn't easy, but I did it.
"Do you still love her?" someone asked, throwing the question into the air like an arrow.
The room went silent. The words caught in my throat for a moment, but then I spoke.
"I will always love her, but not in the same way. It's like a star that is no longer in the sky but whose light continues to travel to us. What we shared was real and always will be, but I also know that my life can't eternally orbit around that memory."
The applause that followed wasn't just for my answers, but for the honesty I had tried to offer.
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That night, back at the hotel, I sat by the window with a copy of the book in my hands. There was something surreal about holding it, knowing that every word on those pages had been torn from my heart. I opened the book to the dedication:
"For those who still hear echoes in their void. May they find the bridge that leads them to the other shore."
My phone buzzed. It was a message from Sofía.
Sofía: "You were incredible today. How are you feeling?"
I smiled before replying.
Me: "Exhausted, but good. Thanks for being there."
Sofía: "Always. By the way, did you notice who was sitting in the back row?"
I frowned, confused. I didn't remember paying attention to anyone in particular.
Me: "No. Who?"
Sofía: "Astrid."
The message took my breath away. The idea that she had been there, listening to the words I had written with her in mind, filled me with a wave of mixed emotions. I stood up from the chair and walked to the bed, where I lay down, staring at the ceiling. Why had she come? What had she felt reading the book?
I wanted to write to her, to reach out, but I stopped myself. This wasn't the moment.
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Astrid's Message
Days later, while walking along the beach near my home, I found a crumpled envelope in my mailbox. It had no sender, but I recognized the handwriting. With trembling hands, I opened it.
"I read your book. I didn't realize those words haunted me as much as they did you. Thank you for writing it. Thank you for letting me go. —A."
The sun reflected off the waves as I read, and for the first time in a long time, I felt completely at peace.
Astrid had closed her chapter. And now, finally, I could close mine.
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I stayed on the beach for hours, watching the waves come and go, taking the foam away and bringing something new each time. In my mind, I replayed the past few months: the sleepless nights writing on the forum, the sessions with my therapist, the solitary walks in the park, and the deep conversations with Sofía. Everything had built up to a crescendo that had brought me to this moment.
The wind blew cold, but I didn't mind. I felt a lightness I hadn't known in a long time, as if I could finally breathe without the weight of the past pressing on my chest.
At some point, I pulled out my phone and sent Sofía a message:
Me: "I read Astrid's letter."
She didn't take long to reply.
Sofía: "How do you feel?"
Me: "At peace. Finally."
There was a pause before her next message arrived.
Sofía: "I knew you'd get here. I'm proud of you."
I smiled at the screen and put my phone away. There was a serenity within me that I couldn't explain. Every step I had taken, even the ones that seemed wrong at the time, had brought me here.
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Epilogue
A year later, I was at another presentation, this time as a mentor to a group of young writers. I had dedicated my time to helping others find their voices, guiding them along the path I had walked.
Sofía was still by my side, as a friend, collaborator, and confidant. Our connection was stronger than ever, and though our lives followed separate paths, I knew I could always count on her.
In the audience, I noticed a young woman timidly raising her hand. When I called on her, she spoke with a shaky but determined voice.
"I just want to thank you for Echoes in the Void. Your story saved me."
Her confession left me speechless for a moment. Then, I stepped closer to the microphone and, with a smile, replied:
"It wasn't my story that saved you. It was you."
The audience applauded, and in that instant, I knew I had found my purpose. The void within me was no longer a burden, but a space where others could find an echo to guide them.
And with that, my story didn't end, but it did close another chapter.
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Thank you for joining me reading this story, it means a lot to me because it tells to some extent a part of my life.
I hope you liked the story and if so, I would appreciate a comment about what you liked the most.
Thanks for everything and I hope that the next project of this style will also be to your liking.