Sometimes silence is better than an "I miss you." Even when I feel the overwhelming urge to say those words, because they swim through my mind constantly.
Sometimes silence is better than the slow creaking open of a door. A door that can be opened with an "I miss you."
Instead, I'll stand on the other side, forehead pressed against cold wood, thinking the words feverishly
fiercely
but never uttering them aloud.
Some doors are better left shut.
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