I sat down tonight, looked at the blank screen, and realized my heart simply wasn’t in it. Nothing dramatic happened, no grand crisis. I’m just tired. Some evenings the words come easily, and I enjoy shaping the small pieces of my day into a story. Tonight, though, silence felt more appealing than sentences. It turns out that not every day needs to be recorded or celebrated, and that is perfectly fine. So instead of writing a full post, I am giving myself permission to rest, to close the laptop, and let the quiet do its good work. There will be plenty of days ahead for stories. Tonight is for breathing.
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