There are cries that come
like weather—
loud, sudden,
gone before they finish saying
what needed to be said.

And then there are the others.
The ones that wait for years
to find a home
safe enough
to be heard.

Tonight, it wasn’t just a song
that broke you—

it was the quiet
after the song ended,
the part where someone stayed.

No questions
or fixing.
Just presence,
while you folded
into the sound of your own heart
finally unclenching.

You didn’t cry because you were weak.

You cried because
you were ready
to stop pretending
it didn’t matter.

And the silence that followed
wasn’t empty—
it was full of everything
you never got to say.

So let this be the night
you remember not what shattered,

but who stayed
long enough
to help you gather the pieces.