She always liked to talk.
And she liked it even more when people listened.

She felt alive only then
when someone’s eyes rested on her,
when someone nodded, smiled,
when someone’s attention confirmed
that she existed.

When others paused to think,
she filled the pause.
When someone hesitated,
she spoke for them.

She could not stand the space
between words.
Because in that space,
she disappeared.
And disappearing was unbearable.

She didn’t mean to be tiring.
But she was.
She was using other people’s energy to stay alive.

Then she lost her voice for a few weeks
after a particularly bad cold.
And silence wasn’t a choice anymore.
It was simply there
unavoidable,
like weather.

At first it felt strange.
She would sit across from someone
and feel the emptiness stretch
between one sentence and the next.

She wanted to fill it,
and she tried
but the pain in her throat stopped her.

So she waited.
And as she waited,
she looked.
And in that pause,
she saw the other person
not through words,
but through presence.

She noticed the small movements,
the breath,
the eyes that softened
when they were truly seen.
She smiled.
The other person smiled too.
Nothing was said,
but everything was understood.

And then she felt something new
the quiet connection
that lives underneath every conversation.
There was life in this connection.
A true human energy exchange
warm, calm,
flowing in both directions.

She realised she didn’t need
to keep talking to be seen.
She didn’t need to fill the air
to exist.

In the silence between words,
she was still there
alive,
real,
and finally,
heard.

Just stay aware of space.
Tomasz