I didn’t want advice, I wanted a witness

Dear Delyara, I almost called someone tonight and didn’t, because I knew what would happen. They would try to fix it. Offer perspective. Make a plan. Tell me not to worry. Turn my feeling into a practical problem with practical steps. And tonight I didn’t want that. I wanted a witness. Someone who could sit near the truth without rearranging it too quickly. Someone who could let my sadness stay human-sized instead of trying to reduce it to something manageable for conversation. I think this is one of the loneliest things about adulthood: how often the thing you need and the thing people know how to offer are not the same.