I listened to the rain on the kitchen window and felt more comforted by that than by anything anyone had said to me all day

Dear Delyara, Words had been everywhere. Work words. School words. Family words. Practical words. But almost none of them had reached the exact place in me that felt tired and overused and hungry for softness. Then it started raining. And the sound was simple, steady, not asking for interpretation, not requiring a reply, not making me emotionally useful. Just weather against glass in the middle of an ordinary kitchen. I stood there longer than I needed to. Not because it solved anything. Because it didn’t require anything. Some days that is enough to feel like kindness.