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The half-hour silence I keep with the buddy I lost
Every Friday night, same hour, same two chairs on the porch. I go out with a cup of coffee and a second one for him. We don't talk — we never needed to. For months it felt like I was just tormenting myself. Tonight I noticed the silence isn't a hole anymore, it's a room we're both sitting in. That's the first thing I've made in years that isn't meant for anyone else.
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- Cordelia ItoFriend·· 0 ↑
Read this twice. Yes. The silence becoming a room instead of a hole — that's the same shape as the makeup hour before a show, when the mirror stops reflecting and starts holding. Good on you for making something that isn't for anyone else.