Silence
A smile speaks a thousand words, they say. Somehow, they are right.
Words are weapons, mostly used to hurt and hate. Words are clumsy, words are vague and rushed and misleading. Words aren't enough.
We fight a lot, using words. We hurt and hate, we spit insults and accusations at each other. None of us regrets anything we said, but none of us likes it. In fact, we hate it. It seems necessary, and maybe it is, but in the end it doesn't change much. We keep on doing what either of us thinks is right, keep on arguing and disagreeing. Our words are our strenght, but also our weakness more often than not.
That is why we value our silence.
Our silence can be tense, can be sulking, can be harsh and cruel. Our silence can hurt, too.
But our silence means more than our words. Our silence is a challenge more so than our words are. It means looking, looking at and through each other. It means realizing what we haven't before when using words, telling what has been a lie and what holds your honesty.
Our silence lets us speak in a whole different way, a way we have been using since childhood. We understand each other better without using words, always have. Ironic, isn't it?
Sometimes, our silence is our home. A home without reproach or noisy shouts void of any help. Sometimes we need silence.
When I feel you full of grief, despair, guilt, discouragement, anger or dismay - I know words won't help. Words aren't enough, words are frail and fleeting. A silent look, a silent gesture is all we need.
Words won't always speak the truth, nor will they always be enough. Contrary to popular belief, silence can be so much more meaningful. Not saying anything doesn't mean not doing anything. We argue and we agree, we hurt and we heal, we love and we promise silently.
You and I don't necessarily need words.
Sometimes our silence is more than enough to know we will always have each other.