There are truths about my life that I still don’t feel safe enough to say in full sentences

Dear Delyara, I know them in fragments. In body knowledge. In sudden clarity at 2 a.m. In the way I go quiet at certain questions. In how quickly I change the subject. In the things I write down and delete. In the almost-sent messages. In the conversations I rehearse in the shower and never actually have. The truths are there. About marriage. About tiredness. About resentment. About grief. About what I have outgrown. About the quiet ways I keep abandoning myself to preserve structures that no longer feel fully honest. I am not confused about everything. Sometimes I am silent because I know too much. And because truth changes rooms. That is what still frightens me.