To the empty spaces that don’t need filling.

 

I’ve been learning to sit with silence for a while now.

It’s those moments where everything is calm and still.

 

In the past, whenever there was silence between me and someone else,

I would always find it a little bit awkward,

as though that silence needed to be filled with something—

mainly with a question, or a conversation.

I wasn’t comfortable sitting in the silence,

because it meant that something was wrong.

 

But lately,

I’ve been embracing the silence.

 

I noticed this when I was with Paul,

coming home from a hike that we’d done.

We were both pretty tired,

and we chatted a lot on the way there.

We also chatted a lot during the hike as well.

So on the way back,

we were just enjoying each other’s presence—

both eyes on the road while I drove.

 

And we didn’t need to say anything

to tell the other person that we are still here,

still present.

 

I remember a time when I was with Kevin,

and many times we would just share the same space.

I would be doing my own thing,

and he would be doing his own thing,

and we wouldn’t talk to each other,

but we were just there,

sharing each other’s presence.

And it felt nice.

 

And lately,

I’ve been learning to feel comfortable in the silence

when sending texts to the guys that I’m dating,

and they take forever to send me texts back.

I would sometimes think that something was wrong,

that I did something wrong,

or said something that upset them—

but they always get back to me.

Perhaps they were busy,

perhaps they got caught up in something,

or maybe they weren’t that interested in me.

 

But whatever the case is,

I’m learning to continue with my life

without pausing it

to wait for them to text me back.

 

And I feel like I’m growing,

and evolving,

by embracing the silence.

By knowing that everything is just going to be alright,

if I continue to take one step forward at a time.

 

The texts will come.

The conversation will still continue.

There’s nothing to worry about.

 

Sometimes,

the silence can be its own beautiful music too.