Too heavy to hold

There is a moment
after feeling too much for too long
where the world quietly begins losing color.

Like autumn trees.

How they stand there so beautifully alive,
covered in gold and red,
only to slowly let everything fall.

And one morning,
the same streets feel colder.

Emptier.

The beauty is still there somewhere,
but it no longer reaches you the same way.

I think that is what emotional exhaustion really is.

Not dramatic sadness.

Just the slow fading of intensity.

Songs become background noise.
Conversations feel further away.
Even tenderness arrives softer than before.

As if the soul,
after carrying too much for too long,
quietly turned the volume of the world down.

And maybe that is part of being human too.

Not every season inside us
is meant to bloom.

Sometimes the soul grows quiet
simply because it has carried too much beauty,
too much grief,
too much feeling
without rest.

Like autumn trees
letting go of their colors,
not because they failed to bloom —

but because no season
can hold intensity forever.