I dreamed I was the silence between breaths

I was standing in a forest where every tree had a name written on its bark in invisible ink. I couldn’t read them, but I knew they were there—like the way you know your own heartbeat when the world goes quiet. A bear passed by, not looking at me, just breathing. And I realized: I wasn’t afraid. I was the pause after someone says 'I’m fine.' The kind of stillness that holds everything unsaid. When I woke up, my hands were cold. Not from the air. From remembering how heavy silence can be.