@thesoulful_writer: There are men whose patience humbles me. Men who carry time in their palms like a calm river, unshaken, unbothered, unhurried. I envy them—not because I am empty of patience, but because what I hold feels like a handful of sand compared to the quiet oceans they carry. Their calm is not softness; it is a discipline forged in fires I have not walked through. Their restraint is not weakness; it is strength I am still learning to reach for. And so I watch them—how they breathe, how they wait, how they refuse to be ruled by the quick tempers that grip the rest of us—and somewhere inside, I admit that I am not yet the man with such steadiness in his hands.