Direction Takes Distance

Have you ever quietly wanted to leave the room—
even though it’s filled with people you love?

Not because they failed you.
But because you forgot how to hear yourself inside it.

Sometimes loyalty gets loud.
And the longer you stay,
the harder it is to remember what silence sounds like.

You can’t fully inhale
in a room you’re trying to escape.
You can’t exhale
until you open the door.

Distance doesn’t always mean disconnection.
Sometimes it’s devotion in its rawest form—
the kind that walks away,
not to disappear—
but to breathe.
To listen.
To return with clarity.

You don’t owe anyone your presence
if it costs you your alignment.
And alignment?
It’s not found in what others see.
It’s found in what finally feels still.

And sometimes—
stillness waits on the other side of the door.

“Sacred distance is a silent direction—follow inward, not outward.”

—Angela

the voice beneath Daughter, Unwritten