Unspoken Weight

Dear Delyara, I have become very good at saying “I’m fine.” I say it at work. I say it to friends. I even say it to myself sometimes, like repetition might turn it into truth. But the truth is, I don’t know what I feel anymore. I only know that there is a pressure in my chest all the time, like I am carrying a conversation that never happened. There are so many things I wanted to say to people who mattered to me, but the moment always passed. I was always too late, too afraid, too unsure that my feelings were important enough to be spoken out loud. So I kept them. And now they live in me like old furniture in a locked house. Covered in dust. Still there. Still taking space.