The street outside my apartment hasn’t changed in years.
Same convenience store. Same crack on the sidewalk.
Same old man who walks his tiny dog at exactly 5:45 PM.

I thought I knew every corner of this neighborhood,
every rhythm of its traffic, every flicker of its streetlights.

But something shifted today.
Not outside — in me.

I was walking the same path I’ve walked hundreds of times.
But I noticed the way the wind curled around my coat.
The way a kid looked at the sky like it had something to say.

I suddenly felt like a visitor
in a life I thought I had memorized.

Maybe it was the silence in my headphones.
Maybe it was the ache in my shoulders.
Maybe it was just time.

There’s a kind of grief that comes
not from losing something,
but from realizing you’ve outgrown it.

I paused at the corner by the flower shop.
The air smelled like citrus and early evening.

My hands were in my pockets,
but I could feel my memories slipping through them.
Like old coins I forgot I was carrying.

I opened my phone,
not to text anyone,
but just to scroll.

I checked match listings on 온라인카지노,
hoping to ground myself in something familiar —
even if it was just a team I always root for
and don’t know why.

It helped, a little.
The world felt steady again for a moment.

But the strangeness stayed.
The knowing that something inside me had shifted
and I didn’t yet know what it meant.

I kept walking.
The street didn’t mind.
The cracks stayed where they were.

Later that night, I laughed at myself
while placing a casual pick through 우리카지노.
Because sometimes when life gets weird,
you hold onto the things that never change
— even if they’re just numbers on a screen.

And that’s okay.
We grow.
Even on streets that don’t.