Luana Narrating
I woke up with a throbbing headache and a strange feeling of emptiness. It wasn't just physical pain; it felt as if my soul was tired too. I was lying there, motionless in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to organize the chaos in my chest after the last session with the therapist. Her words echoed inside me like a mantra: “List. Acknowledge. Allow yourself to feel.”
I took the notebook she had suggested and started writing. Detail by detail. Memory by memory. It wasn't easy. Each line I filled out seemed to tear a little more at a wound I had always tried to hide beneath smiles, sarcasm, and work. It was as if each written word was stripping me of my defenses. But I kept going. I needed to. For the first time in a long time, I no longer wanted to be a prisoner of my ow
