The Sunday Silence

Dear Delyara, Sunday afternoons are the hardest. The light gets long and yellow, and the silence in the house starts to feel like an accusation. I cleaned the kitchen twice just to have something to do with my hands. I’m learning that I don't actually like my own company as much as I tell people I do. I’m constantly looking for a distraction—a podcast, a chore, a text—anything to avoid the quiet. Maybe that’s what this sanctuary is for: learning to sit in the silence until it stops being scary.