Silence

I think intelligent silence is very rare. Most silence is awkward, hostile, embarrassed, or empty. H.’s silence isn’t. Today during literature class everyone around us was loud in that exhausted Friday way where teenagers become progressively more chaotic with every passing hour. Meanwhile H. sat beside me near the windows quietly drawing tiny geometric flowers in her notebook while rain moved across the glass outside. At one point neither of us spoke for almost ten minutes and somehow it still felt like conversation…

That sounds romantic accidentally but I don’t mean it romantically.
I mean some people understand presence without needing constant performance.

School would be unbearable without her honestly. She notices things nobody else does. Teachers’ moods. Atmosphere changes. Which people are pretending confidence badly. Which girls are sad before they admit it themselves. Today she looked at one couple arguing softly near the corridor and just said: “They already talk like divorced adults.”

Exactly.

After classes we walked toward the station together while the city looked grey/blue and freezing under early evening light.

I realized something then:

certain friendships don’t arrive loudly. They organize themselves quietly inside your life until one day you cannot imagine the architecture without them anymore.

SILENCE.
Remember me,
Eclipse