everything i didn’t say

according to just about everyone i have ever met, coworkers, bosses, acquaintances and teachers, i need to be louder.

which is a nice way of saying they find my silence deeply suspicious, as if i have something to hide, or at the very least have an attitude problem.

i need to be louder for the world around me to finally see me. to even acknowledge my being.

but have those people ever considered how exhausting it is to perform a louder version of myself, solely for the purpose of making other people feel more comfortable?

the sadness in realizing that people prefer the loud mask i wear more than what’s actually underneath it. more than me.

how lonely it is to constantly be misunderstood, for people to interpret my silence as a judgment of them.

people treat my silence like a puzzle they can’t solve, or worse, a void they feel entitled to fill with their own noise.

it’s exhausting being treated like a technical glitch in someone else’s social life, just because i prefer to listen to the world, instead of screaming at it.

i don’t want to throw my heart into a conversation where i know it’s going to get stepped on.

being quiet comes with the irony of people thinking that i don’t care, that i‘m cold and conceited when in reality i have the biggest and warmest heart visible to those who actually listen.

i‘m drowning in my own thoughts, while they think i‘m looking down on them from a pedestal i never asked to stand on.

my silence isn’t a judgment of you.

it is my sanctuary.

so, if you’re ever tired of the noise, too, come sit with me.

i won’t ask why you‘re quiet.

i already know that the loudest things in the room are usually the things we never say out loud anyway.