Why I leave a message unanswered even though I've already read it
10:15 pm, the kitchen dark, the kettle starting to heat. You read the first three lines standing up and tell yourself: I'll answer after dinner.
You swipe, you read the whole thing, and you close the app without typing a single letter. The little badge disappears. On the screen it's read. On your side, nothing ever left.
You put the phone face down on the table. You do the dishes that have been sitting there since morning, you watch a video of someone fixing a chair. And all the while, in your head, you're writing the reply. You redo it twice. It gets too long, too thought through for a Tuesday night.
It isn't laziness, and I like saying that plainly. It's that this message asks for a real sentence: your mother asking if everything's okay, someone kind waiting, without saying so, for something just as kind back. You want to do it properly, so you wait until you have what it takes to do it properly. And by morning, answering yesterday costs more than yesterday did.
What it takes from you isn't the time. It's carrying a message you've already read all evening long.
On the screen it's read. On your side, nothing ever left.
I was wondering…
Whose disappointment are you carrying around all evening, before anyone out there has even felt a thing?