This story happened to me at night.

In that very silence where thoughts sound louder than footsteps, and the senses are heightened to the limit.

I wasn't sleeping.
I lay in the darkness and listened to the city breathe.

Sometimes it seems to me that night is a separate world.

More honest, deeper, more frank.

In the dark, it's impossible to pretend, either to yourself or to the universe.

The lights were completely off.

Absolute darkness.

And suddenly... I felt someone else in the room.

Not fear.
More a sense of presence.

As if someone was standing next to me, not touching, but knowing too much about me.

I opened my eyes—and saw movement. Not a form, not a body.
A shadow. It didn't frighten me.
It was as if it were breathing with me.

For a moment, it seemed as if it were echoing my thoughts.

Like a reflection that can't be seen in a mirror, but is there.

In moments like these, you start asking yourself strange questions.

What if we're not as alone as we think?
What if each of us has something... or someone... that appears precisely when we're most vulnerable?

I didn't scream. I didn't turn on the light.

I simply let it be.
And in that moment, a very clear feeling came over me: you're on the right path.

Not an explanation—knowledge.

Deep, calm, confident.

When everything disappeared, I lay there with my eyes open for a long time.

My heart beat slowly...
And the strangest thing is, my soul felt light.

As if after a frank conversation.
As if after a confession that had long been waiting for its moment.

Since then, I've had a different attitude toward darkness.

Have you ever experienced anything similar in your life?