The Echo of the Train Tracks

Dear Delyara, Every twenty minutes, a freight train rumbles past the back of my building, making the glass in my window vibrate with a low, metallic chatter. It’s 4:20 AM now, and I’ve started counting the cars just to keep my mind from spiraling into the dark. There is something deeply unsettling about the sound of things moving purposefully through the night while you are completely stagnant. Those trains are carrying cargo to destinations, moving toward a specific purpose, while I am just sitting in a dark room, chewing on the same anxieties I’ve had for years. The noise cuts through the silence, a constant reminder that the rest of the world is functioning, growing, and changing, while I am trapped in a permanent holding pattern, waiting for a dawn that never seems to bring any real change.