what's hard is knowing you have to say something, but not being able to find words that are adequate.

you're supposed to say something.

or else they would've never came to you, never would have said this or that happened.

but they did come, and it did happen.

then there's the pause, signifying the end of their side of the conversation and the start of your side.

the pause stretches out.

so many things running through your mind and, forefront of it all, is the idea that you could never say what you mean to say.

much less what you want to say.

and maybe that's actually the hardest part: not being able to say what you want to say.

part of what stops you is you dont know how it'll fit into the pause.

would they actually get that, when you say what you want to say, its your way of saying you're there for them?

you've put me into this pause. and i'm trying to find the words to say what i want to say and what i need to say.

sometimes i wish i could just hug you instead.