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where my thoughts got too loud

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It started the same way most things start for me-quietly, without warning, without anything obvious happening on the outside. There was no dramatic moment, no clear trigger, no event that made everything suddenly change. That's the dangerous part about overthinking. It doesn't always need something big to begin. Sometimes it just builds slowly in the background until one day you realize your own mind has been louder than everything else for a while now.

I noticed it while I was getting ready. Not the usual kind of noticing where I just observe things around me, but the kind where I become aware of my own thoughts like they were slightly heavier than normal. I kept replaying small things from yesterday that shouldn't have mattered anymore. Cal catching my books. The way he said "watch your step." The way I didn't know what to feel after that. And worse, the way I kept thinking about it even when I told myself not to.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment longer than usual. It wasn't about appearance. It was more like I was trying to figure out what exactly was happening inside my head that made everything feel slightly louder today.

"Ang aga mo mag-isip," I muttered to myself quietly, almost annoyed.

And somehow, that was the first honest thing I said all morning.

When I got to school, Luisa was already there, as expected. She looked at me once and immediately tilted her head like she was analyzing something I didn't say out loud yet.

"Okay," she said, "you look like you slept but your brain didn't."

I blinked at her. "That doesn't make sense."

"It does," she said simply. "For you."

I sighed and walked beside her. "I'm fine."

She hummed like she didn't believe it but didn't push immediately, which was unusual. Luisa usually jokes first before she gets serious, but today there was a slight shift in her tone, like she was observing instead of reacting.

We were walking through the corridor when she suddenly said, "Sera."

"Hmm?"

"You're thinking again."

I frowned slightly. "I always think."

"Not like this," she said softly.

That made me pause for half a second. Not because I agreed, but because I didn't immediately deny it.

And that silence was enough for her.

We kept walking, but I felt it again-that mental noise I couldn't fully shut off. It wasn't panic. Not yet. Just thoughts stacking on top of each other without permission. And the worst part was I couldn't even tell which ones were real anymore and which ones I was creating on my own.

Then I saw him.

Cassian Kael. Or let's just say Cal, just how they call him.

Same place. Same silence. Same presence that doesn't try to announce itself but somehow still takes up space in my mind without effort.

But this time was different. Because instead of just noticing him... I noticed myself noticing him. And that thought alone made something uncomfortable shift inside me.

Bakit ba lagi na lang siya? I thought.

Then immediately after, Or bakit ako laging bumabalik sa kanya?

I looked away faster this time, not because he did anything, but because I didn't like the direction my thoughts were going.

Luisa noticed. Of course she did.

"Okay," she said slowly, "you just did that thing again."

"What thing?"

"That thing where you see him and then suddenly your brain goes somewhere else."

I frowned. "I don't do that."

She gave me a look. "Sera, you literally just did it."

I didn't answer immediately. Because she was right. And that was starting to annoy me more than it should.

Later during break, I wasn't really hungry, but Luisa still dragged me to sit with her anyway. She talked about random things at first-classmates, nonsense stories, something about a teacher's weird reaction earlier-but I wasn't fully listening. My mind kept slipping back into loops I didn't want to follow.

And then she suddenly stopped talking.

That made me look at her.

"...what?" I asked.

She studied me for a second.

"You're spiraling," she said simply.

I blinked. "I'm not." But my voice didn't sound convincing, even to me.

Luisa leaned back slightly. "Sera, I know you. This is not normal thinking for you. This is the 'everything means something' mode again."

That sentence hit too close. I looked down at my hands without realizing it.

"I just... I don't know," I admitted quietly. "It feels like my mind won't stop going back to the same things."

"Like what?" she asked, softer this time.

I hesitated.

Then finally said it.

"...him."

There. I said it.

Not loudly. Not confidently. Just honestly.

Luisa didn't react dramatically. No teasing. No joke. Just silence for a second before she nodded slightly like she understood more than I did.

"Okay," she said. "That's fine."

I looked at her. "That's not fine."

"It is," she said. "It's just your brain attaching meaning to something it doesn't understand yet."

I frowned. "That sounds worse."

She smiled faintly. "It's not. It just means you're thinking too much again."

And that phrase, thinking too much again-stayed with me longer than it should have. Because for the first time, I didn't feel like she was joking.

After school, I walked slower than usual without meaning to. Luisa noticed again but didn't comment right away. We just walked in silence for a while, which is rare for us.

Then she said softly, "Sera."

I hummed.

"You don't have to understand everything in your head immediately," she said.

I didn't answer right away.

Because the truth was- I didn't even understand why everything felt louder today in the first place. And that scared me a little. Not enough to break me. But enough for me to realize something important:

My thoughts weren't just existing anymore. They were starting to talk back.