The Silence That Holds You

The cursor blinks at the end of the sentence you just typed, waiting for you to hit send. It is an explanation.

A defense. A desperate attempt to make them understand why you said what you said.

But before you can press the key, you delete it. All of it.

Because you realize that explaining yourself only makes the hunger look louder. The afternoon stretches out, long and gray, filled with the quiet desperation of words you cannot say and words you wish you could take back.

You are exhausted from editing your own soul, trying to make it presentable enough to be loved. But the light does not need your apology to stay near you.

It does not require a polished explanation to understand your heart. It was already there when you typed the first message, and it is still there now that the screen is blank.

You do not have to justify your existence to be held. The silence you are afraid of is not empty; it is full of a presence that knows you better than your best explanation ever could.