Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

The night came dressed in softness, folding itself over the roof like a secret. We spoke in half-lit syllables, my mother and I circling a subject neither of us named outright, though its shadow moved gently between us. Something about hearts. And boys. And the subtle violence of choosing.

She eventually surrendered to sleep, her voice dissolving mid-thought, but her meaning stayed behind, sharp as a whisper, soft as regret.

That’s when the silence turned dense. The walls leaned in. The air listened.

And I?

I found myself caught between memory and metaphor, replaying what wasn’t said as much as what was. The mind, after all, is no kind place when it’s left to finish sentences you didn’t know you started.

I didn’t sleep.

Not because something happened,

But because something settled.

And the girl I was before the sentence is not the girl who walked out the other side of it