A talk with empathy

 I had a talk with empathy.

It came without answers,

only presence.

It sat with me in the quiet places.

It told me that feeling so much

is not chaos — it’s attunement.

That my heart gathers truths before words exist.

Empathy didn’t interrupt the tremble in my chest.

It didn’t ask me to justify the tears or translate them into something useful.

It understood the language before the sentence.

We stayed there a while — breathing, listening, not solving.

And in that stillness, I learned that being deeply affected is not the same as being undone.

When empathy finally stood to leave,

it left no advice behind,

only this knowing:

that presence is sometimes the answer,

and I already carry it.