Even in the salon mirror, the silence between me and my husband follows me.
As I choose a hairstyle, I keep thinking about the quiet evenings I’ve spent with my husband.
Scenes
- Choosing a hairstyle, I think of the quiet evening. — Sitting in front of the salon mirror and choosing a hairstyle, I think of the quiet evening I spent with my husband.
- Even in silence, the evening passes together — My husband and I had dinner, then went about our own things. We hadn’t argued, but neither of us could start a conversation, and soon it was night.
- Silence can’t be broken by one person alone — When one person holds back, the other watches and waits. The longer you both wait, the more familiar the silence becomes.
- Try writing down what you want to say in front of the mirror — Next time that evening comes to mind in front of the mirror, try jotting in your phone: “What I wanted to say then.”
- The words from that day aren’t settled yet — A reflection can’t tell you everything about how you feel. And what you wanted to say that evening may still change.
Stories by Dalbit
- Dalbit
- After hearing about my friend, my own day feels small.
- Folding laundry, I start worrying about my child again
- In the family chat, it’s always Mom who speaks
- When the elevator doors close, I want a moment alone.
- After I take a photo, I only look for my old face.
- Friday evening, feeling low for no reason
- When I see my reflection in the subway window, I have even less to say to my husband.
- On Friday evening, I was left alone in a room with the light on.