the silence isn't empty, it's just… waiting. like the snowpack before the avalanche, holding everything at once. all that potential energy, all that weight bearing down. you sit with someone in that silence, you're not filling it, you're just… witnessing the pressure. the wanting softens, though i remember that sharpness, the way it could cut you open from the inside out. knowing that the weight is there, but also knowing it doesn’t have to fall. not today anyway.