The Silence After One Year Ago Today
The silence after leaving highschool
A year ago today, the halls of my high school echoed with laughter, conversations, and the constant chatter of students moving from one class to another. The world felt different back then — busier, louder, and full of energy. But now, everything is quieter.
I walk through the same corridors, past the same classrooms, yet something feels missing. The desks are still there, the posters on the walls remain unchanged, but the voices that once filled the air have faded. Some of my closest friends have moved on, either to different schools, new cities, or different paths in life. The realization hits me — time doesn’t wait, and neither do people.
The halls still exist, the classrooms remain, but the energy is gone. Friends who once walked beside me have scattered like autumn leaves in the wind, carried away to different places, different lives. Some left by choice, some by distance, and some simply drifted away, the way people sometimes do. I still scroll through old conversations, rereading messages that once felt so alive. But replies don’t come anymore, and neither do the late-night calls filled with dreams and laughter.
I step into the same spaces, but they no longer feel like mine. The desk where I once sat is now just a desk, empty and unclaimed. The echoes of voices I once knew have faded into whispers I can barely hold onto. The silence presses against me like a weight, heavy with the absence of everything I once took for granted.
But perhaps this silence is not just loss — it is also a lesson. A year ago, I thought nothing would change, that friendships would be forever, that time would wait for us. I was wrong. Time moves whether we are ready or not, and people change, even when we don’t want them to.
And yet, in this quiet, I am still here. Breathing. Growing. Learning to move forward even when the past tugs at me like a shadow. Maybe the silence is not an ending but an invitation — to listen, to heal, and to find new voices that will one day fill these empty spaces again.
