I thought the words would stop

 I thought the words would stop…after you were gone.

That I wouldn’t have anything left to say.
That the conversations would end
the moment you weren’t there to hear them.
But they didn’t.
They’re still here…
sitting quietly in my chest…
waiting for somewhere to go.
I still talk to you.
Not out loud most of the time…
just in those small, unguarded moments
when my mind forgets
that you’re not beside me anymore.
I tell you about my day.
The little things… the unimportant ones…
the ones only you ever seemed to care about.
I still ask you questions too.
Simple ones…
like I used to.
And sometimes…
I pause afterward…
like I’m waiting for your answer.
Because for so long…
you understood me without needing words.
A look.
A feeling.
A quiet moment between us…
and somehow, everything was already said.
That’s the part I miss the most.
Not just your presence…
but that connection…
that way of being heard
without having to explain anything at all.
And now…
these words don’t have the same place to go.
They stay with me…
soft, unfinished…
like sentences that never quite found their ending.
But I’m starting to understand something.
Maybe they didn’t leave
because they weren’t meant to.
Maybe love like this
doesn’t stop speaking
just because it can’t be heard the same way.
Maybe it changes.
Maybe the words still reach you…
just differently.
Through the quiet.
Through the moments when I feel something shift
for no reason at all.
Like you’re still listening…
the way you always did.
Because even now…
when I speak your name…
it doesn’t feel empty.
It feels like something
is still holding onto it.
Still answering…
in a way only the heart understands.
So no…
the words didn’t leave.
They stayed.
Right here…
with everything else that still belongs to you.
And one day…
when I see you again…
I won’t have to wonder
if you heard me.
I’ll know.
Because I’ll say your name…
and this time—
you’ll answer back.