рожон

Sometimes fatigue isn't from work, but from holding yourself back for too long. When you want to shout and hug at the same time. When you're trying your hardest not to break the dishes, even tho your insides are ringing louder than porcelain against tile. It seems simple enough: don't stir up trouble, don't say too much, don't dwell on the past. But somewhere under the skin, it still cracks - beautifully, painfully, as if the heart had decided to play a farewell chord and then pretend it had just missed a beat. Love in moments like these isn't like a celebration - more like a quiet evening in the kitchen, where the smell of dinner and unspoken words linger. Two people are sitting opposite each other, each with their own weariness, their own guilt, their own "I'm sorrys." Someone is playing poorly, someone has just played too much. But there's a strange warmth in this falseness - as if we're still alive as long as there's someone to say "I need you so much."