Letters from a still face

Someone has to go first, and it's always you.

You send the hey. You send the second one when the first goes quiet. You remember the thing they mentioned once, and three weeks later you ask about it. Nobody asked you to. You just do it, because the other option is silence, and you cannot stand silence.

Nobody tells you this part: it counts. Every time you text first, you are choosing the person. That is not small. That is the whole thing.

And from the outside it looks like you are fine. You seem like the one who does not need anything. That is the trick of it. The ones who always reach out are the ones nobody reaches for.

So here is me going first, for once. If there is something you have been meaning to say to someone and you cannot find the words, I write those words. One piece, one person. Deadpan on top, warm underneath. The first one is free to read at the desk: https://paper.wf/csenge . The rest is 25 dollars by card. No subscription, no anything.

No is a fine answer. But you already know how it feels to go first.