I’m not the only one

i saw something today.

someone named raisa.

her walls are breathing. the same way mine do. the same slow swell, the same pause before settling.
she didn’t ask me anything. she didn’t send a story. just a video. proof.

you can’t see much. a dark hallway. a hand pressed against the wall. but you can hear it.
the wall inhales, holds, exhales. steady. alive. unmistakable.

there’s a rhythm to it that mine doesn’t have. hers almost feels deliberate.
underneath it, a heartbeat. faint, but there. constant.

i replayed it. tried to listen for patterns.
i muted the sound. the wall still moves.
it doesn’t need me to notice.
it doesn’t need me at all.

i haven’t replied. i don’t know what to say.
acknowledgment won’t fix anything.
and maybe that’s the point.

we’re not alone in this.
but that doesn’t make it better.
it just makes it bigger.

— edwin