Morning arrived without ceremony.No dramatic sunlight. No sudden clarity. Just the low hum of the city waking up and the familiar heaviness in his chest like something unfinished knocking from the inside.He sat on the edge of the bed longer than usual, staring at his hands. They looked the same. No scars had vanished overnight. No strength had magically appeared in his fingers. And yet, something felt different. Not better. Just… aware.For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t running from the feeling.The past weeks had done something to him. Slowly. Quietly. They had stripped away excuses. The kind he used to survive. The kind that once protected him but had now overstayed their welcome.He thought about the choices he had made, little ones, mostly. Words he didn’t say. Doors he didn’t knock on. Apologies he delayed because pride felt easier than humility. None of them felt dramatic at the time. But stacked together, they had shaped the man he was becoming.And that scared hi