I think I was sadder than I looked at 6 p.m.

Dear Delyara, I made dinner. I answered normally. I moved through the house like an ordinary person finishing an ordinary day. But I think I was sadder than I looked. Not dramatically sad. Just sad in that adult, private, layered way where the body keeps going and the heart quietly lowers a little without demanding a full ceremony around it. I want that sentence somewhere outside me tonight.