From my window, I watched a couple fall in love again and then fall apart, again. This is a reflection on addiction, on the quiet way it undoes people, and how we, as outsiders, try to make sense of something we’ll never fully understand. It’s not just about them. It’s also about me, and maybe, in some way, about all of us.

Five years changed everything—friendships, family, work, identity. This isn’t a polished list of life lessons, it’s just me trying to make sense of the quiet chaos. From feeling alone in crowded rooms to questioning what’s real within myself, this is a personal reflection on the parts of life that don’t always get spoken out loud. Not answers—just honest fragments I’m still piecing together.

High-functioning autism is a paradox—struggling with emotions, social cues, and sensory overload while being “smart enough” to mask it. Many never realize they need help, believing their struggles are personal failures. Years pass in silent exhaustion, misread and misunderstood. But the truth is, they were never broken—just navigating a world that never showed them who they truly are. Understanding that is the first step to truly existing.

I used to get frustrated by the world’s chaos—people making the same mistakes, society’s expectations, and the noise that felt impossible to escape. But I’ve realized the noise isn’t something to block or fight. It’s part of life. This is my reflection on embracing the absurdity around me, accepting what I can’t control, and finding authenticity in the middle of it all.

Life doesn’t promise anything…your job, your health, even your relationships. We hope things will work out, but hope can feel fragile, and not everyone is wired for it. Wonder, though, is different. It’s about asking questions, staying curious, and digging deeper…even when the answers aren’t clear. Wonder doesn’t rely on guarantees; it thrives in uncertainty and drives us to explore and grow, making it stronger and more real than hope.