you made me fluent in silence.

is this what yearning feels like?

if this is what comes with caring for someone, i don’t think i want to yearn anymore.

it feels like carrying conversations that never happen, rehearsing questions i’ll never ask, and convincing myself that silence is enough of an answer.

there are days when i want to tell you everything. to ask the question that’s been sitting quietly inside me for far too long.

“what are we?”

but i never do.

instead, i settle for what you have choose to give me. your replies, your presence whenever it appears, the small moments that somehow become enough to keep my hope alive.

i tell myself not to reply quickly anymore. maybe i should learn to match your pace instead. maybe if i stop reaching for you the moment you appear, i can protect whatever is left on me.

but love has always arrived faster than my pride ever could.

so i continue to wait.

not because waiting is easy, but because somewhere between your delayed replies and my unsent questions, i started believing that patience was another way of loving you.

you’ve made fluent in silence, and somehow, i still keep hoping you’ll understand the words i never say.