There are truths about my life I still cannot risk saying in full

Dear Delyara, I know what is thinning. I know what I am resentful about. I know which parts of me are starved. I know what I am grieving. I know how often I am quiet for the sake of preserving arrangements rather than because the silence is actually good for me. I know all of this. And still, there is a distance between knowing and speaking that feels like a cliff. Because truth changes rooms. Because once certain things are said, everyone present has to either respond honestly or reveal the limits of their love and imagination very quickly. I do not always feel safe enough to know which it would be. So I carry the truths. The body notices that.