Sometimes the hardest part of the journey isn't surviving the dark forest.
It's leaving it.
We become very good at being the person we needed to be. Strong. Restless. Hungry. Always moving. Always fighting. Always preparing for the next battle.
And then one day, the landscape changes.
But we don't.
We keep carrying old truths into a life that no longer requires them. We mistake familiar armor for identity. We keep fighting because we have forgotten who we are when there is nothing left to fight.
Maybe the next chapter doesn't require another war.
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