Sometimes, the kindest thing you can do… is let the page stay unfinished, make your own soup, and move to a room where you can speak freely again.

We didn’t fight.
There was no fallout. No big blow-up.
Just… silence.

Which somehow stung more.

They were a collaborator. A creative partner. Someone I truly wanted to build something with. And I meant it. I told them, “I’m not just going to do X, Y, Z ... I’m going to show you how serious I am. I’m doing V through Z.”

They didn’t ask for that. I offered it.

And I delivered ... in record time. Everything I promised. More than they expected. They were impressed. Genuinely, I think. We had a conversation. We shared ideas. It felt like something was forming. Like we were building.

And then… nothing.

No calls. No texts. No replies. Just three weeks of radio silence. And when they finally responded, they gave a reason ... let’s call it “A.” On paper, it made sense. But in my gut, I felt it: the energy had shifted. They were one foot in, one foot out. And I’ve been in this game long enough to know that feeling.

It’s the feeling of someone who says collaboration but means “let’s see what you can do for me.”

It’s old.
And I’m tired of it.

See, I’m not angry. I’m not even disappointed, really. I’ve reached a place in my life ... and my work ... where I don’t chase energy that won’t meet me halfway. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t still linger.

Not because I needed their approval.
Because I gave mine.

I believed in the work. I put in the effort. I took their words seriously. And when someone responds to that kind of energy with indifference ... or worse, avoidance ... it doesn’t just end the project. It leaves a silence where something meaningful could have grown.

Collaboration, to me, isn’t about flattery or big talk.
It’s about rhythm.
Responsiveness.
Respect.

You don’t need to applaud someone’s effort. But if you invite them in ... even loosely ... and they show up with something real, the bare minimum is acknowledgment. The moment you keep someone in the dark, you show them how little light this project really had.

And maybe that’s the part I’ve learned to accept.

Some people speak with fireworks… and disappear before the smoke clears.
Others show up quietly, consistently, without drama ... and build something that lasts.

I used to file those moments in the “maybe” folder ... give the benefit of the doubt, extend grace, stay hopeful.

But nowadays?
Big talkers have a special place in my life.

Somewhere near the bottom of the filing cabinet.

Because I’ll keep showing up.
I’ll keep building.
I’ll keep finishing the sentence ... even if the other person walks out halfway through.

Not for them.
For me.

But even then… it still leaves a bruise.

Even when I know the pattern.
Even when I tell myself I’ve outgrown the sting.
There’s always a few hours ... or a day ... where I feel like I said too much, cared too much, expected too much.

And that’s human.
It’s not a weakness.
It’s just proof that I showed up with heart.

So when that feeling hits ... the mid-sentence silence, the fade-out with no punctuation ... I’ve started doing something different.

I don’t overexplain.
I don’t chase.
I don’t spiral.

I go make soup.

Not literally every time. But something simple, something soft. Something that reminds me I still know how to care for things ... even when someone else couldn’t care back.

I watch a comfort show I’ve seen too many times.
I write to no one, just to hear my voice again.
I tidy one part of my life that doesn’t talk back.

And I remind myself that not everyone has the same rhythm.
Some people build fast and leave faster.
Others never intended to stay ... they were just passing through.

That doesn’t mean I was wrong to show up.
It just means next time, I’ll bring a gentler exit plan… just in case.

Because the truth is ...
I don’t want to stop being the kind of person who says “yes.”
But I’m learning to also say “enough.”

And sometimes, the kindest thing you can do…
is let the page stay unfinished,
make your own soup,
and move to a room where you can speak freely again.