Unspoken Words

For someone who writes so much about staying true to who you are, about speaking your mind and communicating your feelings, I still struggle with it every single day.

There’s a quiet irony in that.

Because the truth is, sometimes speaking your mind, pouring out your heart, or saying the thing that’s been sitting heavy on your chest can hurt more in the long run. We romanticize honesty as if it’s always freeing, always the right choice. But sometimes honesty reopens wounds that were finally starting to close. Sometimes it invites confusion where there was finally peace.

Yes, sometimes it’s a risk you have to take. But sometimes it isn’t.

More often than I’d like to admit, there are so many unspoken words I have yet to say. Words to me, that I would love nothing more than to say and communicate. And yet I restrain them, because even coming from a place of love, they might cause more hurt to them or to me.

While I am still learning, slowly but surely, I am realizing that sometimes love looks like silence. Not all of the time, not most of the time, but some of the time, some of the hardest time looks this way.

Sometimes strength looks like sitting in the stillness and letting the wave pass instead of reacting to it.

Some doors need to stay shut, no matter how badly you miss what was behind them. No matter how badly you wish you could share every waking moment again. No matter how natural it feels to reach for the familiar.

I think the hardest part is knowing when to speak and when to let it remain unspoken. And sometimes you get it wrong. Sometimes you slip. Sometimes emotion speaks before wisdom has a chance to.

But at the end of the day, who is the judge of any of it?

You have to make the choice you can live with. You just have to think it through. Is this a door I truly want to open again? And why do I feel called to open it?

Do I understand the real reason behind this desire?

Am I lonely?
Am I hurting?
Am I bored?
Am I seeking attention, affection, care?
Or do I genuinely want to leave it cracked open because there is something real and healthy waiting on the other side?

Sometimes it’s enough just knowing they’re okay. Knowing they’re alive and well. Knowing they’re doing just fine without you. That realization can sting in its own quiet way, but at the end of the day, I just want them to be happy. I want God to bless their life in unimaginable ways, and I trust that He will.

And if all I have to endure in return is a little daily heartache, then maybe that’s okay.

What a blessing it is to miss someone who once held such a huge place in your heart. What a blessing it is that they were in your life at all.

I don’t regret anyone or anything that came with it. I don’t regret the love. Even though pain corresponded. Pain does get duller as time goes on. Some days it doesn’t feel like it. Some days it feels just as sharp. But overall, it softens. It teaches. It reshapes you.

As much as I want to say the words that weigh heavily on my chest, sometimes it’s okay to sit in silence.

While my heart cries out wanting to know every detail of their day, wanting to share every moment, wanting to laugh again, wanting to ask for advice, wanting to reach for that familiar shoulder to cry on, wanting to reminisce and try again, I smile and say I’m doing okay.

Meanwhile, the unspoken words try to claw their way up my throat because they’ve been held back for so long.

But sometimes, some words are better left unspoken.

And some hearts aren’t meant to be reopened, not because the love wasn’t real, but because healing matters more than revisiting a wound that finally stopped bleeding.

Thank you for being here,

Kaitlyn