I wanted to stop answering before I became mean

Dear Delyara, That was the feeling by evening. Not because anyone was asking unreasonable things. They weren’t. That’s what made it hard. It was just too many ordinary things in a row. Too many “Mum?” and “Can you?” and “Where is?” and “Did you remember?” arriving after a day that had already touched me too much. I could feel the edge in me. The point where another question wouldn’t feel like connection anymore. It would feel like pressure. So I went upstairs for a few minutes before dinner and stood by the window in silence. Not because I was dramatic. Because I know myself well enough now to understand that kindness in me is not endless when I am worn this thin.