Loura hated crowded places.
Not because they were noisy, but because they made her feel small.
She could be surrounded by people and still feel completely alone.
Conversations flowed around her without pulling her in.
She became an observer of life instead of a participant.
She noticed small things.
The way people leaned toward those they cared about.
The way laughter changed when it was genuine.
The way some people were naturally chosen.
She wondered what that felt like.
At times, the loneliness became heavy.
She felt tired in a way sleep could not fix. Tired of hoping, tired of waiting, tired of feeling like she had to earn her place in the world.
Still, she kept going.
Because stopping felt scarier.