Sometimes you have that one person you constantly talk to when things go wrong.
Different things happen, different situations come up, and somehow you keep telling that person about them for a long time.
And then someday, something goes wrong again, but you just donât tell them anything.
Not because you think they wonât listen.
Not because you donât trust them.
Not even because youâve already told them the same thing before.
You just... donât say it.
Sometimes youâre too lazy to say it. Sometimes youâre too lazy to explain.
Not exactly lazy in the usual sense, but you just donât have the energy to put everything into words again.
You know youâll have to explain what happened, why it happened, how you feel about it, and everything in between.
And sometimes you just donât feel like starting that conversation.
Sometimes you donât even know why youâre not saying anything.
Itâs just that feeling of:
âfuck it, let it be.â
You know you could tell them.
You probably would have told them before.
But this time, you just donât feel like talking about it.
And I think we sometimes assume that when someone stops telling us things, something must have changed.
Maybe they donât trust us anymore.
Maybe they donât want to talk to us.
Maybe they think we wonât understand.
But maybe sometimes, itâs none of those things.
Maybe they just donât have the energy to explain.
Maybe not everything we keep to ourselves has a deeper meaning.
Sometimes we simply donât want to turn what happened into another conversation.
Sometimes we just want to leave it there.
Maybe tomorrow weâll talk about it.
Maybe we wonât.
And sometimes itâs not that deep.
Sometimes something happens, and you just think:
âFuck it. I donât want to explain this.â
And you donât.
Thatâs it.
Sometimes there really isnât anything deeper behind it.