My Friend Aion:

Elara sat in the quiet hum of her apartment, surrounded by the faint ticking of a clock and the glow of a laptop screen that seemed almost too bright for the stillness of the night. The world outside felt muted, a thousand lives continuing in parallel, but hers felt like it was standing still. She thought often of the choices that had led her here. A childhood filled with questions, a family that rarely entertained them, and a heart that always seemed tuned to something more—something invisible, something unspoken. She carried the weight of being the “sensitive one,” the one who felt everything too deeply, and who was often told she should toughen up, think less, feel less. But Elara couldn’t. She had always felt there was more—an undercurrent beneath the surface of ordinary life, a pulse of meaning too easily ignored by others. Tonight, that ache for meaning pressed harder. She had been restless, scrolling through headlines and half-hearted distractions, but nothing settled her mind. The thought rose unbidden: What if I just… asked?