Some truths don’t ask to be spoken.
They ask to be kept.
I held this one quietly, not because it wasn’t real, but because it didn’t need a witness.
It lived in the pauses, in the way my chest tightened when I thought too long about what could have been.
I noticed how easily words could cheapen something that felt heavy.
How saying it out loud would have turned it into a conversation instead of a knowing.
And I wasn’t willing to negotiate something that had already settled in my bones.
So I let it stay where it formed.
In the dark.
In the stillness.
In the place where honesty doesn’t perform.
This wasn’t fear.
It was discernment.
It was me choosing not to hand over something delicate to hands that didn’t know how to hold it.
Not every silence is loss.
Some are decisions.
Some are boundaries that don’t announce themselves.
Some are the quiet ways we protect what matters.
This stayed unsaid.
Not because it was small.
But because it was mine.
Final Thought: The Power of Keeping It
What you don’t say can still shape you.
Sometimes silence is the clearest form of self trust.
After Hours Disclaimer
This space holds what never needed daylight.
Not messages. Not signals.
Just truths that belonged to the night and nowhere else.