Even frozen rivers once sang, before winter claimed their voice, before the current slowed into stillness, before silence learned how to wear itself as strength.
Because not all silence is peace.
Some of it is survival. Some of it is what remains when expression becomes too heavy to carry.
And I saw it in you.
I saw warmth in the way you didn't speak, in the pauses you left hanging in the air, in the quiet that wrapped itself around you like a shield you refused to lower.
Your silence…
It didn't feel empty.
It felt guarded.
Like something inside you was trying not to break.
And somehow, instead of pushing me away, it stood around me, protective, careful, distant…
yet close enough to feel.
You are not cold.
No
You are restrained fire.
A storm that has been taught how to stand still.
A flame that learned how to burn quietly without asking for air.
And I wonder…
If one day, that stillness will crack.
If the ice you've wrapped around yourself will finally give way to the warmth I know exists beneath it.
Not for the world.
Not for strangers.
But for me.
I wonder if one day you'll stop holding yourself back
stop silencing the parts of you that want to feel, that want to reach, that want to love freely.
If one day, you'll melt…
Not into something weak
but into something real.
And if that day comes, I hope I'm still there to witness it.
Because beneath all that silence, beneath all that stillness,
I have already seen what you're trying so hard to hide.