Her cries have gone unheard. Her wails have been ignored. Now, she has no words to spare. She began to welcome every pain, every hurt, every heartache with open arms and struggled not against them.

As long as it is she who suffers, she does not utter a word. As long as it is she who falls, she does not make a sound. She has accepted her fate, her demise into the world of silence. And no vile situation can ever cause her to murmur or mutter, as long as only she is concerned.

Shall we call it strength? Or is it weakness? Shall we name it wisdom? Or is it the folly of a fool? Can we call it noble? Or is it a vain pursuit?

And yet, the peace of our home is maintained because of that; because of her heart-breaking silence. And I can never understand why she allows herself to undergo such an ordeal; to continue treading this hellish and hurtful path with no definite happy ending.

And yet, she's fine with that, as long as I find mine.