“Why do you do that?” They ask.

“Letting yourself be hurt like that. Always reaching out for someone when all you ever gotten back is silence. And for what?” They ask me again.

It’s funny, they have asked me the same question before. I have given them my answer. I told them why. Maybe they found it to be foolish–that I was being absurd.

So I say it to them again. My face is calm and benign when I say this,

“Sometimes, when a person says they are fine, they mean otherwise. When they say nothing is bothering them, in fact, there is. When they tell you to leave them alone, in unsaid truth, they want someone to be by their side. When you feel as though they don’t want to talk, all they really want is someone to talk to.

I don’t mind if all I hear from them is silence. Maybe it will take them some time to trust me with their stories. I know that they know that I am always there. And that, to me, is more than I could ever hope for.”

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