I don’t remember when I stopped being comfortable with silence. It didn’t happen all at once. It was gradual, like most things that change you without asking permission.
If I Had a Second Chance
He doesn’t talk about it much. But if you sat with him long enough, in the right kind of quiet, he’d probably tell you there are things he wishes he could go back and do differently. Not everything. Just enough.
I Grew Up When Everyone Could Look Happy
I grew up in an era where everyone could look happy. That doesn’t mean everyone was. But the technology had gotten good enough that the difference wasn’t always visible.
While Everyone Else Seems to Know
Everyone around him seemed to be moving toward something. A promotion, a wedding, a business, a plan. He wasn’t standing still exactly. He just hadn’t figured out yet what he was moving toward.
The Line I Never Learned to Draw
There’s a version of care that doesn’t have a clean name. Not quite friendship. Not quite something more. Just this persistent, quiet feeling that shows up every time they do, and refuses to be filed neatly into either category.
