The Boy Who Limits His Life to a Home

 I often wonder what it's like to live a life built on silence. Right next door to me, there's a young man I've known my whole life, but in a way, I barely know him at all. There was a time we were friends, when we were just kids, our minds full of games and endless summer afternoons. He was just a boy then, laughing and running, a part of the noisy world we all lived in. But sometime after we turned 12 or 14, something shifted. It wasn't a sudden change, but a slow, quiet fade. The laughter faded, the invitations to play stopped, and he began to retreat into himself. Now, when I see him, he's a ghost in our neighbourhood—always present but never truly there. He keeps his eyes on the ground, his body language a silent apology for his presence. He’s the purest introvert I’ve ever met, seemingly content to live within his own mind. I find myself watching him, and my mind fills with questions. Does he have dreams? Are they wild and ambitious, or small and practical? Do...