Paradox The Life Circle

Chapter 8: Unraveling the Past

As the months passed, Ainz settled into his routine in college. There was a growing sense of normalcy that had begun to anchor him, though it was a fragile thing, a thin thread that could snap at any moment. But for the time being, he was content, or at least he convinced himself that he was. Life was more than it had been before, and that was enough for him.

He started making real friendships—friends who didn't just want to fill a space in their social circles but actually seemed to care about him. They didn't know his full story, and maybe they never would, but that didn't matter. They saw him as he was in that moment, not as the person he used to be, burdened by the weight of responsibility and self-doubt. They saw the person he had begun to become—a person learning to live for himself, even if it was just a little bit.

One of his closest friends, Liam, noticed the change more than anyone. They spent a lot of time together, and Liam had become a sort of anchor for Ainz during those uncertain times. He was always there to talk about school, life, and even to share jokes that made Ainz laugh harder than he expected. But as they got closer, Liam started to notice something that Ainz hadn't been willing to admit to himself yet—he wasn't just living for himself. He was still living for others, particularly for his parents.

One evening, after a particularly tough day of exams, Liam invited Ainz over to his apartment to relax and talk. Ainz had spent the whole day buried in his textbooks, and the idea of spending time with someone else seemed like a welcome escape.

When he arrived, Liam was already there, lounging on the couch with a movie playing in the background. He waved Ainz over, giving him a quick smile.

"Come on, man. You need a break. Let's just chill for a while," Liam said, grabbing the remote and pausing the movie.

Ainz smiled weakly. "Sounds good. Honestly, I think I need to forget about studying for a bit."

Liam nodded knowingly. "I get it. But I've been meaning to ask you something, Ainz. You've been different lately, and I've been wondering... what's really going on with you?"

Ainz froze, the question hanging in the air. He had been expecting this. Liam was perceptive, too perceptive sometimes. He wasn't like the others who accepted Ainz's silent distance without question. He was the type to dig deeper, to see beyond the surface.

Ainz swallowed, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't like he wanted to lie to Liam, but he didn't know how to explain everything that had been building up inside him. The weight of his past, the sacrifices his parents had made for him, the constant pressure to be the person they needed him to be—how could he put all that into words?

"I don't know," Ainz said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "It's just... I've spent my whole life trying to live for other people. My parents, mostly. I've been so focused on them, on their struggles, that I don't even know what I want anymore. Sometimes I feel like I've lost myself."

Liam sat up, his expression serious now. "Ainz, you've been carrying all of this on your own for so long. You've been doing everything for them, but what about you? You're allowed to live for yourself too. I know you're grateful to your parents, and I get that, but you can't keep putting yourself last forever."

Ainz's chest tightened at Liam's words. He knew what Liam was saying was true. He had always known, deep down, that he was suffocating himself. But the guilt, the fear of disappointing his parents, kept him tethered to the life he had built. If he let go of that responsibility, what would happen? Would his parents fall apart? Would they feel abandoned?

"I don't know how to let go of that, Liam," Ainz said softly, the vulnerability in his voice unfamiliar to him. "They've always needed me. I can't just walk away from that."

Liam's expression softened. "I'm not saying you should walk away. But you can't pour from an empty cup, Ainz. You can't give them everything if you're nothing but an empty shell yourself. You need to find a balance, man."

Ainz remained quiet, turning his gaze to the window. The city lights sparkled outside, but they did little to chase away the darkness that seemed to linger in his mind.

The next few days passed in a blur. Ainz tried to focus on his studies, on his classes, on anything that could take his mind off the difficult conversation with Liam. But the truth had been spoken, and it sat heavy in his chest. He wasn't sure how to begin untangling the knot that had formed in his heart—the knot between his own desires and the responsibility he had to his parents.

It wasn't long before he began to notice something that made him even more uncomfortable—he was starting to grow distant from his parents, in subtle ways. It wasn't intentional. In fact, it almost felt like he was trying to distance himself from the weight of their expectations.

He found himself spending more time outside the house, talking with friends or simply taking walks by himself. He would avoid coming home for longer stretches, not because he didn't care, but because he needed space to breathe.

And that's when it hit him. The guilt wasn't gone, but he had started to feel something that had been missing for so long—freedom. The feeling was terrifying. It was as though he were standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure of whether he should jump or retreat back into the safety of his old life.

Ainz's parents, meanwhile, had seen their financial situation improve. The sacrifices they had made over the years had finally started to bear fruit. His mother had found a better-paying job, and his father's business had grown steadily over time, allowing them to provide more comfortably for Ainz. For the first time, they didn't have to worry about every penny, every small expense. The weight they had carried for so long had started to ease, and their financial condition was stable.

But Ainz didn't know how to reconcile the fact that his parents were no longer struggling. In his mind, he had always been the one holding them up, the one keeping them going. Now that they were financially stable, what did that mean for him? He wasn't sure who he was without the weight of their struggles on his shoulders.

That night, after yet another evening spent with his friends, Ainz walked home, the city streets eerily quiet. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was changing in him, and that change terrified him. The old Ainz—the one who lived solely for his parents—was slipping away, replaced by someone he didn't fully understand yet.

He reached his apartment and opened the door, where his mother was sitting at the kitchen table, quietly reading a letter. She looked up when he entered, her face lighting up in a smile.

"Ainz, you're back," she said warmly. "How was your day? You look like you had a good time with your friends."

Ainz hesitated, unsure of what to say. "Yeah, it was good. I've been... hanging out more lately."

His mother's smile faltered slightly, a hint of concern flickering in her eyes. "That's good to hear. I've noticed you've been spending more time out. Is everything okay?"

Ainz opened his mouth to reassure her, but something inside him snapped. "I don't know, Mom. I don't know if I'm doing enough for you. I don't know if I'm even enough for you anymore." The words spilled out before he could stop them, and he immediately regretted it.

His mother's expression softened, and she stood up to walk over to him. "Ainz," she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, "you've always been enough for us. Don't ever doubt that. But we also want you to live, to be happy. We don't want you to be burdened by us."

The sincerity in her voice cut through him like a knife, and Ainz's throat tightened. For the first time, he truly heard what she was saying. She didn't want him to carry their burdens anymore.

In that moment, Ainz realized something crucial: he didn't have to keep sacrificing everything for his parents. He could still love them, still support them, but he also had the right to live his own life. He had to learn how to take care of himself first, or he wouldn't be able to do anything for anyone else.

The journey ahead was unclear, but as he stood there, holding his mother's hand, he felt a flicker of something new inside of him. It was hope. Real hope. And for the first time in years, it didn't feel like a foreign concept.

Maybe, just maybe, he could figure out how to live for himself.