you don’t owe me understanding

A man sits at his desk late at night. He’s written a hundred letters he’ll never send, each one tighter than the last. Tonight he pauses. He writes a single line — You don’t owe me understanding. He sets the pen down. The silence doesn’t punish him this time. It holds him. For once, the giving ends where it began — in him.

WE&P by: EZorrillaMc.