The Gap

Two years after her world began to shift, Aris thought she had everything figured out—or at least as much as a nineteen-year-old could. Her life was full, yet hollow. Days were consumed by lectures and textbooks, nights by the hum of the coffee shop where she worked. The sharp scent of espresso, the hiss of steaming milk, the murmur of late-night customers—this was her routine. Predictable. Safe. And utterly exhausting.

She rarely thought about herself in those days; there simply wasn't time. Between school and work, her life moved in a blur, a carousel of obligations she couldn't step off. What little energy she had left, she gave to him.

Her boyfriend was everything she thought she needed: safe, steady, the kind of man her family approved of. He made her laugh when she let herself relax, and for a while, she thought he might be enough. But even then, there was a quiet voice inside her, whispering questions she wasn't ready to face.

What if this isn't it? What if there's something more?

---

Aris had always been good at carrying burdens. Tall and broad-shouldered, she looked like someone who could bear the weight of the world—and most of the time, she did. But she was also good at hiding. Behind her small smiles and quiet demeanor was a girl who didn't know how to ask for what she wanted.

She told herself she didn't need much. A good grade on her exams, a paycheck at the end of the week, a quiet moment to sketch when no one was watching. That was enough, wasn't it?

Her teenage years were a haze of monotony. The streets of Point Fortin were familiar but uninspiring. The salty breeze from the Gulf carried stories of faraway places she wasn't sure she'd ever see. The people around her, talked about leaving one day, chasing dreams beyond their small town. Aris, however, felt stuck—bound by expectations she didn't even realize she'd internalized.

She thought love might fill the void. And when it came, it was like a storm—wild, exhilarating, and all-consuming. For a moment, love sharpened the world, made it brighter. She gave herself recklessly, convinced that if she offered enough, she'd finally find her place.

But love didn't save her. It unraveled her.

---

There was one love, though, that didn't stayed but left a mark, one she'll never forget. He was older, wiser, and seemed to hold the answers to questions she hadn't yet formed. For a while, she thought he was her answer.

Their connection began simply enough. He was a regular at the coffee shop, always ordering the same drink, always sitting in the same corner. At first, she barely noticed him, too caught up in the whirlwind of her responsibilities. But one night, as she handed him his drink, their eyes met, and something shifted.

He was different. He didn't just see her as the quiet girl behind the counter. He saw past her practiced smiles and polite small talk, as though he could hear the questions she didn't dare ask.

For a while, she thought she belonged in his world. He introduced her to ideas, experiences, and places she never would've found on her own. With him, she felt seen in a way no one else had made her feel before.

But his life was already written, his story carved into stone, while hers felt like a blank page.

"You're too young to understand," he'd say, his words laced with affection but also finality.

She wanted to prove him wrong, to show him that she could belong in his world. But as the cracks in their relationship grew, she realized she wasn't just a chapter in his story—she was barely a footnote.

When it ended, it wasn't sudden. It was a slow unraveling, like watching a thread pull loose from a favorite sweater. She saw it coming but couldn't stop it.

And when he walked away, the numbness returned, deeper and darker.

---

But this time, the numbness brought something else with it: a question.

What if this isn't permanent? What if I can change it?

---

At twenty-one, Aris stood at a crossroads. Her life wasn't what she thought it would be, and she wasn't who she thought she'd become. The chaos of her past had faded into the quiet of routine, but the questions remained, louder than ever.

But that's a story for later.

For now, we begin here, two years ago, when the world was still grey, and Aris was just beginning to see the cracks in her armor.

She didn't know it yet, but this was the beginning of her story.

And it was far from over.