Confession: I Fell in Love with the Silence Between Us

Sometimes, the quiet says everything the heart was too afraid to admit.
In the absence of words, we hear truth.

I fell in love with the silence between us—
that sacred space where nothing needed to be said,
where your presence was enough,
where my absence was understood.

We didn't need conversations.
We had something better:
the weight of unsaid words,
the comfort of knowing without speaking,
the intimacy of shared quiet.

In the silence, I could hear your thoughts.
In the quiet, I could feel your truth.
In the pause, I could see your soul.

The silence between us wasn't empty—
it was full.
Full of everything we never said,
everything we never needed to say,
everything that words could only diminish.

I loved the way we could sit together
without filling the space with noise.
I loved the way your silence felt like acceptance,
like understanding,
like home.

But silence is a fragile thing.
It breaks when trust is broken,
when words are weaponized,
when the quiet becomes avoidance.

Now the silence between us is different.
It's heavy with what we didn't say,
weighted with what we couldn't say,
broken by what we never will say.

I miss the silence we used to share—
that peaceful quiet where nothing was wrong,
where everything was understood,
where love lived in the spaces between words.

So here's my confession:
I fell in love with the silence between us,
because in that quiet,
I found the only love that felt real.