Ramses sat still on the edge of his bed, staring at the same four walls he'd been looking at for days. The world, outside of his small apartment, remained in its frozen state—no people, no cars, no sounds. There was nothing but silence, an oppressive silence that hung thick in the air. As he sat, lost in his thoughts, it was as if the world outside was mocking him—an endless stillness, while his mind raced, replaying the same haunting memories over and over again.
In the silence, it was impossible to escape the weight pressing down on him—the weight of his past, of the relationships he had let slip away. His mind drifted to the faces, the people he had once held dear, and the deep sense of regret that followed. It was this emotional burden, more than the loneliness of the frozen world, that gnawed at him.
He had made progress—he knew that. Physically, mentally, emotionally—he was stronger than he had ever been. The gym workouts, the books he'd devoured, the journaling sessions, the daily routines—all of it had helped him build a new version of himself. But in this still, quiet world, his growth felt incomplete. It wasn't the lack of physical challenge that troubled him. It wasn't even the absence of people—he had learned to find peace in solitude. It was the unresolved emotions, the unresolved relationships, and the nagging feeling that he had left too many things unsaid.
His fingers trembled as they brushed through his hair. He exhaled sharply. How had things gotten so bad? He had never meant for things to fall apart the way they had. He had never meant to push everyone away, to keep people at arm's length for so long. But somehow, he had done it. And now, with the world frozen, it was all he could think about. The faces of those he had let down, the people he had hurt without meaning to, all of them floated to the surface of his thoughts, demanding to be acknowledged.
The first memory that came flooding back was Emma. He could still remember her laugh—the way it would fill a room, infectious and genuine, the way she could make him feel like everything was okay, even when everything inside of him felt wrong. She had been a bright light in his life, full of optimism and warmth, and he had been drawn to her immediately when they met in college.
But just as quickly as the connection had formed, Ramses had pulled away. His fears of inadequacy and rejection had sabotaged something beautiful. She wanted to get closer, to know him, but he couldn't let her. His walls, built up over years of personal struggles, had prevented him from accepting the love she offered. When she had asked questions, when she had tried to get him to open up, he shut down. He convinced himself that he didn't deserve her, that he wasn't worth her time. And so, without ever giving it a chance, he had distanced himself.
At first, it had been subtle—small things like avoiding her calls, canceling plans, and withdrawing from their conversations. But as time passed, his absence had grown more obvious, and eventually, so had hers. Emma had stopped reaching out. She had stopped trying. And Ramses had let her go, thinking he was protecting himself. But now, in the silence of the frozen world, the realization hit him harder than ever. He hadn't protected himself at all. He had destroyed something good out of fear.
Ramses stood up from the bed, pacing the small room, frustration building. Why hadn't he been able to see it then? Why hadn't he understood how much she had meant to him until it was too late? His fingers clenched into fists, but he quickly unclenched them. Violence, even if directed at himself, would never bring her back. Nothing would. She had moved on with her life, probably far from him now. The shame in that thought made him feel sick.
He could still picture her face, her smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about the things she loved. She deserved someone who could give her that same energy, that same love she had tried to offer him. And now, all he could do was live with the regret of letting her slip through his fingers. He never told her the truth—that it wasn't about her. That it was about him, his fear of being vulnerable, of being hurt.
The apartment was quiet again, save for the sound of his breathing. But his mind wouldn't let him rest. It was as if the floodgates had opened, and every person he had failed was pouring through, one after the other. There was Mark, his best friend from high school. Mark had been his rock during their teenage years. They had shared everything—the thrill of first loves, the excitement of adulthood just beyond the horizon. Mark had been there when Ramses had been at his lowest, when he had needed someone to pull him out of the depths of his own darkness.
But then high school ended, and Ramses had made the same mistake again. He had let Mark fade from his life. The calls had become less frequent. The hangouts stopped. Ramses told himself it was just the demands of life, that things had changed. But deep down, he knew the truth. He had pushed Mark away because he couldn't bear the thought of relying on someone else. The friendship had meant too much to him, and he had been afraid of losing it, of losing everything. So he had buried it beneath the weight of his fears. And now, years later, he could still hear Mark's voice in his head, calling him, asking how he was doing, reaching out in those final attempts to maintain their bond.
Ramses remembered how Mark had been there, even when Ramses had shut himself away, even when he had distanced himself for reasons he couldn't even explain. Mark had tried to rekindle their friendship, tried to remind him that no matter how far apart they had drifted, he would always be there. But Ramses had pushed him away, thinking that he didn't deserve such loyalty. In the end, Mark had stopped trying. And Ramses had let him go, without even realizing how much he had lost.
His chest tightened as another face surfaced—his family, his parents. They had always been there, offering love and support. But he had never truly allowed them to be a part of his life. He had kept them at arm's length, unable to let them see the full extent of his struggles. His mother had always been the one to encourage him, to tell him he was capable of more, to believe in him even when he couldn't believe in himself. And his father—though more reserved—had always shown his love through actions, through the quiet ways he had supported Ramses without needing words.
But Ramses had never given them the full picture. He had never let them see his fears, his pain. And in doing so, he had pushed them away in his own way. He had kept his struggles to himself, thinking it would be easier for them to think of him as the strong, independent son who didn't need help. But that wasn't the truth. The truth was that he had needed them, had needed their support more than he had ever admitted. And now, with no way to reach them, all he had were the painful echoes of their absence.
Sitting down, Ramses buried his face in his hands. His breathing was shallow, his chest tight with the weight of his realizations. It was too late to fix any of it. The world outside remained frozen, still, and empty. And so was he, locked inside his own guilt.
He couldn't change the past. He couldn't undo the hurt he had caused, the relationships he had destroyed. But as the days went by, Ramses began to understand something he had never fully grasped before. His regrets didn't have to define him. They were part of him, but they weren't all of him. He had made mistakes, yes. But he had also learned from them. He had become someone stronger, someone more aware of his fears and how they had shaped his decisions.
In this frozen world, where everything was still, Ramses began to realize that the most important thing he could do now was to forgive himself. Not just for the relationships he had neglected, but for the self-inflicted wounds he had carried for so long. He had to let go of the past—not to forget it, but to learn from it.
Ramses stood up, taking a deep breath as he walked to the window. The world outside remained unchanged, frozen in time. But he was changing. With every breath, with every reflection, he was becoming more aware of who he was and who he could be.
The weight of regret was still there, but it no longer felt suffocating. It was a part of his journey, a part of his growth. And as he looked out at the still world, Ramses knew that when the world started moving again, he would be ready. Ready to take the lessons from the past, to let go of the mistakes, and to move forward—free from the weight of regret.