Watching the sunset doesn’t fix everything. But it does remind you that time is passing—and that you get to choose how to spend it. In my case, I chose to sit with the sky until I felt human again.

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    There was something about chasing the sky every evening that felt primal. I’d finish work, grab my phone, and run, sometimes literally to a rooftop, a lake, a park bench, anywhere with a westward view. For 20 minutes, nothing else mattered. No anxiety, no laundry, no work drama, no loneliness. Just light, shadow, and me.

    Some days, the sunset was showy—full of neon bravado. Other days, it was muted and moody, like a sigh. And somehow, both felt like home.

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