Unspoken Words

Unspoken words are the things left unsaid. They reside in your throat like travelers waiting to depart, passports in hand, luggage packed, routes mapped out, yet never stepping onto the platform. You don't know what they're waiting for—a right moment, someone willing to listen, or for yourself to finally muster the courage. But as you wait, some words expire. Like that forgotten yogurt in the back of the fridge, you remember it was once fresh, but opening it now only yields a sour smell. Unspoken words are life's quietest regrets. We always think we can say things later. Apologize later, confess later, tell that person 'I actually cared about you a lot' later. But time isn't a counter that holds your belongings for you; it won't give you a ticket number, nor will it return those words to you intact when you come back. Some opportunities are like buses; once missed, they're gone. The next one might not come, and even if it does, it might not go to the same place. I recall the words I didn't say. The 'thank you' to Grandma I never voiced, the 'I'm sorry' to my friend left unspoken, the 'You are good enough' I never told myself. They've now become small pebbles in my heart, not heavy, but noticeable when I walk. It's not pain, but a presence, reminding me: you had the chance to speak, but you chose silence. But unspoken words aren't entirely bad either. Some things, left unsaid, remain in their most beautiful form. Like an unsent letter, forever resting on the gentlest page, untouched by reality, undisturbed by a reply. They bloom in imagination, bear fruit in silence, becoming a unique