Silence isn't always a question.

There's something that wears me out.

It's when someone tells me a story that isn't theirs. They circle around the problem, drop a line, and before I notice I'm already thinking about how to fix things.

Nobody asked me anything. Yet I feel guilty, as if I had to answer questions no one had the courage to ask me.

Maybe the other person was just afraid to ask. It happens, I understand that. But meanwhile my mind starts on its own, and I take on a task no one ever gave me.

Silence isn't always a question.

Sometimes it's just silence. And when there's a real request, the person tells you.

Then you can answer. Yes, no, maybe.

Having empathy doesn't mean taking on everything. You can love someone and let them find the words to ask.

Running to comfort anyone with a shadow on their face is a beautiful thing. And it is.

But you also learn to stop a moment before. And to wait for someone to ask.