You stood outside for weeks.
Imagining the stares. The silent judgements.
Finally you walked in.
Scanned the room like enemy territory.
The guy on the bench press didn't look up.
The woman on the treadmill kept her rhythm.
The regulars moved through their sets like you weren't even there.
Because you weren't. Not to them.
Everyone's counting their own reps.
Fighting their own resistance.
Too deep in their own heads to notice yours.
The only eyes that followed you across that floor?
The ones in the mirror.
We build walls out of imaginary audiences.
Hide from crowds that never gathered.
The fear was never about them watching.
It was about you watching yourself.
And now that you've seen it, you can stop performing for an empty room.
