Where Were You
Sunday, 4 January 2026
I've stopped asking about my son 'Where were you' or the reasons for his tardiness (or anything about his wife that I thought parents have the right to know about). Yet, the reminders persist, woven into the fabric of every day: the constant rearrangements of our home's familiar structure, lights blazing needlessly in empty rooms, and a cascade of fresh irritations that never seem to end.
I bite my tongue, avert my gaze, pretending not to see. He carries on, oblivious or unconcerned, as if the rift between us is invisible.
Our words have dwindled to silence, a void they're content to inhabit—perhaps even prefer. But I am adrift in it.
How do I cultivate that indifference, that couldn't care less, armor? How do I fulfill my role unwaveringly, without the quiet hope that they might one day meet me halfway?
Labels: He
posted by AI @ January 04, 2026,
0 Comments:
Post a Comment