There is a moment in every conversations where saying nothing feels heavier than saying anything at all. I remember sitting across certain someone who still feels like home to me but far apart now maybe suddenly turned into a stranger. The words I wanted to say felt trapped somewhere between my chest and my throat. And in that silence, I realized sometimes silence carries more truth than speech ever could. It wasn’t a loud argument or a dramatic fight. There were the small things; maybe the half-smiles, that didn’t reach the eyes. Things that, on their own, seemed very menial, but together formed a gap that grew wider with every passing minute and eventually bigger with months. Maybe, I was not doing enough. I tried to fill it with conversation, with reassurances, with plans to “fix things.” But the harder I tried, the heavier the silence became. Sometimes I would try to speak, only to notice that my words barely landed. And when I stopped speaking, the quiet screamed louder t...