Silence is hard. Sometimes, it’s harder than speaking up.

Dear Reader,
Have you ever been a part of some sort of drama, theatre production, where (backstage) another performer has told a whispered joke, and instead of laughing in great guffaws, you must silence yourself to half-concealed sniggers, and choked gasps of air? Silence is hard.
Have you ever, Dear Reader, known that your suggestion was right, but were shut down by popular vote, and then been proven right through sheer circumstance, though you resolved not to push the issue? Silence is hard.
Have you ever walked into a room that stopped, mid-conversation, Dear Reader? Silence is hard.
Have you, Dear Reader, ever known another to be angry at you in silence? Silence is hard.
I try to encourage others to speak because it is a hard thing, to stand up for one’s beliefs. However, it is even harder to endure the silence that follows.
How many things can be said in silence? How much more can be said in silence? What a power it is have a focused silence. Power enough to cause others to quake in their boots at a silence, or to impose the most uncomfortable restrictions lest one were to break the silence.
Silence is hard.
Why do we suffer in silence, Dear Reader? Don’t we have friends to support us? Aren’t we called to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn? What makes us think we should suffer, then, alone?
No. This is the wrong type of silence. We should not suffer aimlessly and without support to come out of such mourning. It is an injustice.
Are there others around you, Dear Reader, who are silent? Reach out to them. I implore you, as I will also try to do. Regardless of my suffering, should I not offer my listening ear to another who is possibly suffering in silence? Stand up for those who speak with silence.
Good night.

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