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 than anything I could have said.
The facts are so strange, how people, so close yesterday gets so distant with no time. From sharing the laugh, the memories, the dreams together, all & everything, somewhere along the line, something shifted. These silence grew heavier by the day, and I found myself struggling to cope. My sleep was restless somehow i managed to sleep after a month, my appetite faded, and the things I once enjoyed held no meaning to me. I lost interest in routines, in people, in myself and somewhere along the way, I think I was starting to loose myself too. And now there were this stillness, I found myself reflecting on everything we had, and quietly mourning what was slipping away desperately try to hold on even when realizing this were not for me.
I was working from a cafe one afternoon, trying to be fine amidst this phase of breaking apart, when it hit me. A wave of panic came falling on to me, I shivered, my stomach started to turn, and I puked heavily. In that harsh moment, some of the truth became impossible to deny and maybe it was over and we have to accept it. Somehow, I was still bound with her, but I had to make a choice, I had to hold myself together and somehow be strong. Holding on any longer would only hurt both of us, so I decided, quietly but firmly, to let go, but one last attempt to make it all clear.
I won’t tell the story of why & how it ended, because sometimes the reasons aren’t meant to be shared. Hope they would live in glances, maybe in unspoken apologies, certainly in the spaces between sentences. I can only speak of the feeling, maybe the way the heart recognizes distance before your mind does, the way you notice the absence of gestures that used to feel like love. And surely, your heart and mind says what you had were true.
Somehow I would find myself wondering alone in the evening, replaying conversations in my head, wondering if I could have done something differently. Truth be said, certain things can’t be fixed with words. Some connections just come apart slowly, and there's no way to put them back together with words. Hinting the parting of the ways, surely it were bound to happen, I open my eyes to the thought of us and dwell on the memories till the eyes were shut and close.
Even in sadness, there can be a quiet beauty. Maybe, we can let go of things or people quietly and respectfully. The silences can feel heavy, but it also gives you a space to think, grow, and understand what was. Somehow we can be a braver and give more meaning to the way for moving on than having a big argument or a difficult conversation.
I, someday, will eventually learn to just sit with it. I, someday, will have to accept some stories won't have a neat ending, some moments just hang in time, and some relationships quietly turn into memories hoping it shapes us, all without any need for "closure." The silence has its own way of speaking and maybe here we are seeking the comfort.
In the end, the silence still screams at me what words never would: sometimes, letting go is the only real way to move on. And maybe that's enough.
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