Friday Night Silence

Sometimes the hardest part of keeping your word is the quiet that follows.

You want to ask — did it happen, did you mean it, did you finally speak the truth out loud?

But instead, you wait.

You let the silence test the weight of every promise.

There’s a strange peace in restraint — in not chasing what should find its own way back.

Maybe that’s what trust really is:

not believing everything that’s said,

but standing still long enough to see what remains when the noise fades.

I don’t know what shifted in his world that night,

but I know what shifted in mine —

the moment I realized that love, if it’s real, will circle back without being summoned.

Until then, I’ll keep my word.

And let time tell me what his were worth.